Puppy Love

Chapter 17

Amelia.

I'm not sure where to start, Amelia. My intention was never to make you fear me. For a while, when I came back from the army, my PTSD was in control of every emotion or action I had. When I met Cristina, I was not at my best, and I should not have been dating. I was reckless. Within the first month of us dating, I had my first episode. I remember spending the night at hers for the first time, and I dozed off while I was staring at her ceiling fan. When I woke up, my hands were around her neck, and Callie was screaming for me to stop. It was horrible, I was horrible.

Through therapy I learned that the ceiling fan had triggered the episode, as it caused my mind to go back to the moments after I had lost my platoon. I never meant to hurt Cristina, but I did, and I will never forgive myself for that, even though she has. I started therapy soon after, and then I was granted permission for a service dog to accompany me to most places in my daily routine, including at work. I no longer need Sato with me at all times, but she is still there for when I do need her, and I am still allowed to bring her to work if necessary.

I have not been completely honest with you, and I realize now that it's because I am afraid you will reject me if I tell you what actually happens in my mind sometimes. That first night we went out, and I ended up in your bed, I did not wander there drunkenly; I had an episode. After I fell asleep while you were in the bathroom, I woke up a little while after, and I was staring at your ceiling fan. I had a panic attack, my dog wasn't there, so I snuck in your bedroom because I was afraid to be alone. I thought you knew because when I woke you up, you responded to me and said I could sleep with you, and then you kissed me on my cheek and held my hand.

I promise you we didn't do anything, and when you woke up the next morning, clearly not remembering the conversation we had, I just went along with it because it was easier to explain that I drunkenly wandered into your bedroom. I don't know if you sensed that something was off, but I guess that's also part of the reason I stopped pursuing you; I was afraid I'd be too much bad and not enough good. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I do have control of my PTSD now, and I did not hurt you that night, nor will I ever. I want us to work out, but I worry a lot that you are better than me, and that I will just bring you down, like I did Cristina. Sometimes I worry that I am the reason she left.

Most of all, I am afraid that if you see the real me, you won't actually like me anymore, and I think that's why I'm so afraid that you will cheat on me. I guess it was easier being your friend because I wouldn't have to be vulnerable at a level that I'm not ready for. I want to be ready, and I think I am. I see my therapist very often, twice a month. I take my medications on time, all the time. I identify triggers and deal with them early before they get worse. I haven't had an episode for over a year, not until that night in the ER. That guy, he was hurting you, and I think he would've done worse, and I don't know what came over me. I'm not justifying beating him half to death, or risking my life like that, but I couldn't let him hurt you. I blame myself every day for what happened to my sister, the guilt would eat me whole if something happened to you and I could've prevented it.

I hope we can still work things out, even if it means you just want to go back to being friends. I will understand and respect your boundaries.

I read the essay long text a second time, then a third, and then a fourth time. By the fifth read, I find myself crying silently, in the darkness of the on-call room. My suspicion about that morning was right, something did happen with Owen, and it seems like it changed the entire trajectory of our relationship. Now I am wondering if I still would've chosen Ryan if Owen had been more vocal about his interest in me. All of this is so confusing, but what I do know now is that I want to see him, and talk to him, so I craft a message and send it.