The Melancholy of Cassandra-Marie

(10)

 Our private plane lands on the runway at JFK International. We're informed that the crew will take care of our bags, and that we can just get off now without taking anything. Ainsley nods at me before putting her sunglasses on. My coach gives me an encouraging smile. One of the attendants opens the door for us, and I step out of the plane, greeted by the flashing of cameras and a generously-sized crowd slowly but surely flooding the runway. They all shout and cheer for us, proud of our efforts, and now success, in defeating Romania and the Russian Federation. I feel something surge within me for the first time in many, many weeks. It's something like satisfaction. Like... a comfortable, content fullness taking up all the space in my torso. People are proud of us; proud of me.

For once in my life, I look at all the others around me and I feel at peace with my environment. They all saw me on the floor in Kiev, and now they came to see me in person. They're impressed. Impressed with me. It's been a while since I've felt that I've done good... that I properly fit the requirements for our society to find me interesting. As I look around, I just contemplate my feeling of wholeness for a moment. I did it. I met everyone's expectations. I met my father's, I met my own. Feeling validated doesn't feel the way I expected it to — It still feels good, but it doesn't make my throat and chest feel full or warmth like I thought it would. It feels more like everything I didn't need is sliding off. Something in my head clicks that even though I have the approval of all of these people (which I am very proud and very thankful to have), it doesn't matter nearly as much as approval of and satisfaction with myself is. And for once, I finally feel that. I feel like a should give myself a hug, tight and welcoming like Louis, for finally feeling a sense of lingering calmness and pride with myself. I feel like the storm has ended, like I've finished something to completion. I've gone farther than I think I anticipated. And that's more rewarding than I ever could have known.

I worked for this; I worked all my life. Now, more than decade later, here I am, my dream fulfilled, my aspiration completed. I have fans, I have little girls who see me and they want to be just like me someday — well, right up until they hear my announcement. I brush that aside for now, for I am too consumed by the fact that I actually feel happy. The weight on my shoulders feels so light that almost can't tell if it's there or not. It's been so long... my muscles feel relaxed and my head feels clear — something I haven't experienced since my last time seeing Louis.

Louis... I wonder if he's watching. What if he's mad? What if he doesn't want to see me?

No, no. He's not like that. If I just explain, I'm positive that he'll understand. But then, I have an even bigger problem on my hands now — I have to tell him about the baby. Right now, I'm not even sure I could gather the courage to face him, considering what I've, and by extension, my father, have put him through. He's a good person. Does he really need the burden of dealing with me, and also now a baby in his life? He usually takes bad news with a grain of salt, and tries to find the positives. About a year and a half ago, Amelia, his youngest sister, overdosed, and while she was in the hospital. He visited her everyday, playing her music and trying to encourage her, that while it was a bad idea to do drugs in the first place, and it's now a learning experience to look back on. He promised her that she could only go up, that he wouldn't let her fall back. He'd help her to fix things. I can only pray that he reacts the same when I tell him that I'm pregnant. But what if he doesn't? I'm overthinking this. Knowing Louis, he won't even say there's anything bad about this. He'd just take it as it as and try to be a good dad.

You know... I'll think about all this later. People are happy for me right now. It's about damn time I do that too.

"Cassie! Over here!

"Cassie Strauss, congratulations! Do you have time for some questions?"

"Cassie! Cassie! We love you!"

It all swirls in my head as I try to absorb the mass of people screaming for me and my teammates. I see a girl in a bright pink Nike shirt with her arms out, looking like one of the citizens of Galilee who's waiting for Jesus to heal them. Her chest is crushed hard against the metal barrier, but she looks she's having a great time. I hope that girl is okay. I have no idea who she is, but I hope that she doesn't know what it's like to feel like I did. I hope that girl's life is good, and filled with nothing but joy. I don't know why. I just hope that it is.

It's only begun to hit me that all of this is good. People like me. TV stations want to see me. I did what I was supposed to do, and I've accomplished something that's out of reach for so many people. Maybe I should try to think like this more often... maybe I should try to see the brighter side of things, despite the way I grew up, and the emotional burdens of insecurity and anxiety that I carry with me.

I've always wondered when in my life my rock bottom would be. And now that I'm pregnant, I'd expect it to be coming. But surprisingly... I feel better than I originally thought I would. Yeah, getting pregnant at seventeen is not a good thing. But I feel a lot less... "not good" than I should be. I feel accomplished in my career, and confident in my ability. And though I am young and reckless, maybe with the right thinking, there'll still be a lot for me to look forward to as time drags on.