Loving the Campus Monster

Chapter 31 (Love)

Laura

Over the next two weeks Holly and I took turns visiting and reading to our father daily. Between us we finish Jane Eyre. Then I brought La Reine Margot by Alexandre Dumas from the library, guessing that he might prefer historical adventure to the romance. Not that he ever let me know either way. The only communication we had was through his eyes, and even that was extremely limited. He didn't always open them at my greeting when I entered the room and would mostly keep them closed while I read. The only thing that remained consistent was that he opened his eyes whenever the reading stopped and would glance at the book, urging me to continue. I would keep going until eventually his eyes remained close when I stopped, signaling to me that he must have drifted asleep to the sound of my voice.

This was by far the most time I had ever spent one on one with my father. I'm sure Holly feels the same way.

I begin to look forward to going into his gloomy, way too quiet room every other day to re-read the old classics to him. I wanted to believe that I was doing something useful and hoped he enjoyed these hours as well, or that it at least distracted him from reality, even if for a short while.

Mother never came to visit him. She never even left her office the whole time we were there. I don't know if she was trying to avoid us or if it was something else. Seeing my mother's tears when we first got here makes me think some of it had to do with that. I have never seen her so emotional and honestly it confuses me, but I don't take time to dwell on it. I'm too distracted with spending time with my father to worry about my mother.

Reading to my father helped free my mind. On those days when I read to him, I followed the familiar language of the old masters, losing myself in the story. But at nights....

At nights thoughts of him returned. I thought about him every moment I had to myself, but nights were the worse. Every night I'd lay in bed for hours, waiting for sleep to come. Darkness lurked on the edge of my awareness, but it didn't scare me as much as it once did. At first, I thought it was because I had run away to get away from it, to get away from him. But then I remembered that no physical distance used to ease the fear in me before.

I had fought the darkness and fear and I'd won.

"The monster I was could not take your strength."

He was right, he didn't. My strength is all mine and is still within me. It just took me a while to find it again. I had allowed the assault to gain power over me through the years. But now, I have been working hard to take the power back. Little by little I had regained control over my own body and emotions again.

Ironically the boy that caused all my fear and pain played a huge part in the process of my recovery.

And this is where my thoughts and emotions tangled into a Gordian knot.

He was the assailant, the perpetrator, someone I had vowed to stay away from. Yet I wonder, would have I taken those first steps on the way to healing without him? He was the one who got me open up about my issues again, leading me patiently and helping me to cope with them.

On the other hand, I wouldn't have these issues to deal with in the first place if it wasn't for his actions four years ago, would I?

This is where my mind comes full circle, leaving me unable to decide if I should feel gratitude or resentment. Hate or love?

Which one of the many conflicting emotions should I even allow myself to feel for him?

Is it up to me to choose at all? I am afraid I have very little control over my feelings for him.