CARA VALENTINE WAS EIGHT DAYS INTO LIVING ON HER OWN AND, IN ALL HONESTY, SHE WAS QUITE PROUD OF HERSELF. Even though she'd been confident in her ability to take care of herself without anyone there to hold her hand or standing on the sidelines waiting to step in, there was a small part of her that believed the moment she didn't have someone by her side, she'd crumble. However, to her delight and surprise, she'd proven those beliefs false.
So far she'd been successful in keeping track of her daily and nightly medications and taking them, attending physical and cognitive behavioral therapy alone, going out in public twice without a friend or loved one, and ensuring she ate three meals a day with occasional snacks. All of that sounded super simple and as if it were nothing, but for the recovering woman, it'd taken a year and eight months to get to this point. A point she never thought she'd live long enough to reach, especially when she was told she never would.
But she did.
Cara Valentine made it.
"I could see right, no wrong. I could see good, no bad. I could see all the good things in life I've never had," Cara sang softly, pouring the homemade tomato soup Penelope made for her into a black ceramic bowl. Playing in the background in her mini library was Patsy Cline's song If I Could See the World.
