The Soldier Next Door

…Ana POV…

They say that you can’t push back a wave.

Well, I am standing on the beach about to be pummelled.

If I had known that day that I was going to break, I would have chosen differently. I could have prevented it all together; I would have. Through everything, I did the best that I could to stay alive.

It was lurking in the darkness, just waiting to strike and make itself known.

It took my dreams and left my life in pieces.

It was like a shadow that clung to me every day. A companion that I have had for years now.

I fell so hard and so fast that I had to be hospitalized for a week.

Type one, rapid cycling with moods congruent psychosis, which apparently is a devastating and severe form of Bipolar Disorder.

They told me that I had a mixed episode, which is dangerous. It has a tremendously high suicide risk, higher than a major depressive episode, which did explain a lot. Because when I decided to have a breakdown, I went all in.

I can remember they said that I would be hospitalized again, and ya, for sure, I found myself there more frequently than I desired.

I always wondered if this was just a tragic but necessary thing that I had to go through.

Maybe in some ways, it was inevitable, with no one to blame, for god knows I blamed Mark so many times.

I was angry

And I was mad.

Then I thought that it was not his fault, but it was mine.

But I had to remember what he did to me, he broke me to pieces, and it took someone else to pick me up. I kept falling backward.

Every time I saw my medicine container, I grew such hatred for Mark. It was him; he is the one that has fucked up my life to such an extent that I have a handful of pills that are supposed to help me get rid of the baggage and scars that I live with.

I was consumed by torment, I used to scream, but there was nothing. I had lost my voice, and I had lost my life.

And it was because of Mark.

At first, I was in denial.

How can this happen to me? Ana, the spontaneous girl that loved and lived life. Now she was knocked back with mood swings that can leave her crippled at times.

My life has become nothing but chaos and confusion.

I had thought that if I just went back to Mark that it would all go back to normal.

I was resentful, and I was bitter. I could not even bring myself to speak his name.

Then it dropped like a present on my doorstep only but a year after I had left him – depression.

At first, I thought I would be fine, but no, only but a month later I was sitting in that little room, there was a woman with brown hair and an unkind gaze. And just for a moment, she softened and looked me in the eyes, “My dear, I am sorry.” And that was the first time I ever heard that word in my life.

And oh my god, did I feel it, for it had my body at attention. It pumped the adrenaline through my veins, but then it would take its grip on my body and leave me crying in terrible pain.

I can’t remember the last time I slept for eight hours straight. My mind is like a cinema, replaying images from my past.

After a couple of years, I thought that I would get over the pain and especially the hatred for Mark, but the more this illness got a grip on my life, the more I swore to myself that I would get my revenge.

So through the years, when I was plotting every move that I made, I thought that I finally, at some point, got a hold, and I had this illness under control. Yes, it still left traces of anxiety and stress every day, but it also gave me resilience and strength. I can see the world in a way that many people can ever imagine.

This is a world that I have never told Ethan about.

But this world seems to want to come and threaten me again.

Why do I feel so low and angry when I should be celebrating the birth of my child that I have been waiting for so many months?

Why does it feel like I can explode and erupt again?

I know I need to tell Ethan, but I can’t. I have been hiding it from him so well, and do I dare even say that the episodes have not been so often in the year that we have been together.

So what do I do?

In a few days, I will be taking my child home, and in even less time than I realize, then Ethan will be gone.

Do I tell him? Do I tell him that I have another person inside me that brews in here, waiting for the perfect moment to strike? She is the demon that brings depths of the deepest darkness inside awake in me. She chews at my mind and pounds at my heart, crippling me with nothing but fear. She sits and waits for anger to erupt; it is what she feeds on; it is what makes her alive. The more she gets what she needs, the more I lose the pieces that are the real part of me.

Do I want Ethan to know that I am a monster?

That I am crazy?© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

So with all these thoughts eaten at my heart, I look at him sitting there watching our son and not taking his eyes off him for a single moment.

But then, for that brief second, he turns and looks at me, “Boo, are you okay?”

Well, what do I say now?

I really have to tell him, but it is harder than I think it would have been to just say the words to him. Will the demons go away if I tell him?

Do I even tell him that they threaten to come back for a reason that I cannot explain?

So I watch him get up from where he is sitting next to his mom and walk over to me with nothing but that gorgeous smile on his face.

“Boo, you don’t look so well. Are you feeling okay? Must I get the Doctor?”

“No, soldier, I am okay. I think I just need some rest.”

With that, he pulls me back into his embrace. I lock my arms around his neck and run my finger through his hair. There is a soft moan that escapes his lips as his lips seek mine, and as our breaths mingle, he pulls me further into his chest and starts to kiss me with so much raw passion.

As he kisses me, my brain lights on fire, and the warmth spreads throughout my entire body.

I am addicted to him.

Is it something that I really want to mess up by springing something onto him that might not even happen? Yes, I have failed to keep my emotions intact sometimes, but what happens if I have to blow out?

I owe it to Ethan.

And I owe it to our son.

So I look at him in those big brown eyes, “Soldier, there is something that we need to talk about.”

“What is wrong, boo? Is there something wrong with Lucas? I saw you talking to the Doctor earlier on.”

“No, Lucas is fine. There is… Well, it… You know what? Why don’t you go back and sit with your mom, and I will go get us some coffee.”

He pulls me back into his arms and looks at me with nothing but questions in his eyes, “What are you not telling me, boo?”

“Nothing, soldier, I think I guess I am just scared when we finally take Lucas home.”

“We will be fine, boo. And I promise you; I will not leave if there is something wrong.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, you and Lucas are more important to me than anything else in this world.”

And with that, the tears start to tremble down my face. I cannot let him give us his dream of deploying again. I will not allow him to give up the things that he loves.

Yes, that she is inside me, and she is waiting to erupt. Something has happened. Something has shifted, and I do not have her under control the way that I had before.

But I cannot tell Ethan either.

I cannot let him think that I am not a good mother to my child.

Ethan can never find about this.

He has not known for a year.

I can hide it for as long as I can.