29. Ava

29

AVA

Sitting on the porch drinking coffee, gazing at the beauty in abundance surrounding me, I sip, taking it in and reflecting on how I got here. Cal brought me home, to his hometown - the place that formed him, the place his mom raised him and later died. We have been here over a month and it's exactly what I needed. If I am honest with myself, Cal thought this would be another layer to us healing.

And he was right.

Cal and I took trips daily to different parts of the city. He showed me all the important parts of him. He told me about the grim nightmare his father had created for his mother and him, the high school where so many poor decisions were made, and so much more. The place he found his solitude, the place that helped him build his strength. The longer we stayed, the more relaxed I had became, and the more free I felt. Cal's hometown was the balm to my soul, each moment gave me a glimpse into who Cal was and why he is the way he is today.

He surprised me with this trip. He packed everything up, put the luggage into the truck, and woke me up. We had breakfast and then bam… He placed a gift bag in front of me after the table was cleared.

Gifts were exciting. I still had a nervous edge about them, but this is Cal and he wouldn't do anything that would harm my strides in healing.

I was correct. It was a thick spiral bound sketch pad with a variety of mediums: charcoal, colored pencils, watercolor pencils and a few others that would allow for any image to come to life off the pages. I remember being stunned by the gift when he quickly stated: "We are all packed up and this is for the trip. I thought it would let you capture the things you see or the images that need to slip from you onto the page." Shrugging, he walked off, leaving me sitting there, mouth agape.

Grabbing a drink and the gift bag since everything, my purse included, was already waiting for us in the truck, I stalked after him. I was having a fit and that was okay. I learned that I could express any emotion, have any outburst, and Cal would love and support me, no issue.

Climbing in the truck, I slammed the door shut. I swear I saw his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Narrowing my eyes at him, I huff. I wasn't ready for this. I didn't know what this trip would be. I would be away from the safety of this house. Cal would be there, sure, but was it enough?

Mumbling my frustration about overbearing men and their pushy ways, I thought to myself that I wasn't sure I could dive into drawing and sketching again. Painting was a lovely therapeutic treatment. It was doing me wonders to flick and toss a macabre of colors at the blank canvas.

Shaking my head to dislodge the memories away, I sip my creamy sweet hot coffee as the wind whips my hair about. I look down at my cross-legged lap to the sketch book that I didn't need or want that was now filled to the brim.

A small laugh slips out. Again another point of victory to Cal for knowing what I need before I could even think to express it. The simple spiral held an assortment of imagery - depictions of the beautiful land that we traveled, showing the plethora of unique and vivid animals that we came across. There was no shortage of those images. Within the depths of those glorious landscapes are darker more gruesome images. I had been scared about showing these images, unsure of what Cal would think of them or me.

But again, I should have known. I really should have known that it would never matter.

After a quiet evening with Cal, we hadn't done much. Dinner and tv, then bed. I rounded up the courage this morning and jumped.

Placing the book in front of Cal, he looked at me. I nodded, giving him permission. He slowly flipped from page to page. I watched his face closely. Not once did his face show pity or grim dissatisfaction at where this sketchbook led. In fact, he told me to keep doing what I needed to do in order to heal and overcome all the horrid acts that happened to me.

He was so open and honest. Best of all, he had zero judgment. He truly loved me for me, no matter the appalling acts committed against me. And with that epiphany, I knew that the words I had spoken before were not simply words of a woman hoping to be in love, but a woman who was madly, deeply, and irrevocably in love.