Jenny
Here is where I am. Sitting in a coffee shop, staring out the opened window with the setting sun glaring into my face. Here I am because I can’t figure out who I am anymore. I sit in more coffee shops, I started wearing my glasses again, I attempt to read often, and on my days off I sleep later and adventure more. All in hopes of finding Jenny again. Was she happy? Depressed, angry? Did she have such anxiety as I? Did she wear charm bracelets and pearls and drink wine with her in laws? Or was she free? Happy, free spirited, careless Jenny is who I’m searching for. Surely she was enslaved inside of a curly haired, pearl wearing, wine drinking, fashionable young woman’s body.
Sometimes when I cant sleep, I still see flashbacks. I’m happily married, or so I consider myself, I have nice things, drive a nice car, and I see myself as moved on. But I feel out of touch with who I was, and that’s when the flashbacks come. When I don’t have much on my mind, when I’m not busy drinking my coffee and flipping through paperwork at my 9-5, or having dinner with my well rounded husband.
I see his bare chest and my blond curls laid across him. I see his summer home, sitting on the beach with my toes lapped by the ocean waves. I see us having lunch in the cafe in our hometown. I see us young and together, not in love, but just together. Then I see us gaining years on our lives and he growing angry. Busier, his mind crowded with stress, and no time for me or lunches in the cafe. The flash backs come and see his hand slap across my face, his fist curl in my hair and jerking my head until the bed post, I see my nose bloody and my heart pounding with fear. The flash backs come and I see Manuel. The anxiety begins.
As I try to calm myself, my husband will caress me and wipe the snotty tears from my rose cheeks. Holding me until the flashbacks stop and Manuel is out of my head. All the while, my husband doesn’t realize I have been overthinking and he doesn’t know the images of my youth with Manuel that flood my head. He just cares for me and loves me in the way no one ever has and I feel undeserving because of what Manuel has done to me.
So here I am, sitting in the coffee shop, staring out of this window, trying to find the old Jenny. Jennifer who did yoga, drank herbal teas, took a morning jog, and who filled her time with projects and company of friends, hiked, and spent summers in the Gulf. Desperately crying for this Jenny to come back and fill me as myself. Where has she gone? Because surely, Manuel did not steal her.
The anxiety sets in.
I will be a smart girl, like Manuel taught me before he destroyed me. I will be smart and love my husband. Letting him take care of me and with time I will find myself and heal a whole person and not just part of a woman. I will fall in love with my husband and laugh like a child and smile. A new story will begin, all without the flash backs.
Until then, I will continue to wear my glasses, drink more coffee, read more novels, adventure places I have not been, and love my husband whole heartedly. I will take my time finding myself, no matter how hurriedly I want myself back.