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Completely Lost

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Previously…

“Cảm Æ¡n bạn…. I know how hard it is for you.” Nams hugged Kara once again before pointing to the kitchen. A moment later they were joined by Jim.

“Khá´ng sao Ä‘á¢u, Jimmy! It’s okay!”

Under your spell again.
I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.

Kara’s apartment…a few weeks later…

“Hi…what? Oh… I don’t know what happened to your Giants jacket. No… wait…“ Kara clicked off her cell at the rude sound of the dial tone and sat down; looking around the apartment as if by doing a visual survey she’d discover he’d left the jacket there after all. And then he’d have to come over. The inventory proved more than merely disappointing. He had left his mark on her apartment like some stray dog marking his territory; walking away disinterested while the scent remained as a reminder of his presence.

She got up and went into the kitchen to make herself some cocoa. Another reminder of his departure shouted at her as she opened the cabinet door next to the stove; a favorite mug that they oddly both shared called attention to itself with the dark blue logo prominent and the memories fading all too slowly….

Sometime in the all-too-recent past…

And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.
Pour real life down on me.
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.
Am I good enough for you to love me too?

“I think that…” she stopped in mid-sentence, noting once again that he paid little attention to her even when they shared the ‘fun’ of watching a football game. She had a tray of sandwiches and drinks; all in Giants’ blue party ware. She set the tray on the coffee table and sat down. His attention remained fixed on the TV. The doorbell rang.

“Oh…that’s the Pizza…can you get that?” He motioned toward the door without looking. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her wallet. A moment later she was sitting down at the table; the food she had so eagerly prepared was rudely shoved aside by the pizza box and he had dug into a meatball Parm sandwich. She thought about asking him for the money she had just laid out, but it wasn’t really a good idea.

“Didn’t you like what I made?” She practically pled. He barely glanced at her and not at all at the food.

“What…oh…sorry.” He barely said, before returning his attention to the game. She sat back, arms folded in a self-hug. He turned and looked at her.

“What?”

“I just went to a lot of trouble.” She hadn’t meant to pout, but her disappointment was almost glaring in the dim light of his indifference. He shook his head.

“You didn’t tell me you were making something special.” The fact that she had been in the kitchen all afternoon seemed to get past him somehow, but that was their relationship in a snapshot. But only almost a benign glimpse compared to the tableau of disdain and neglect and much worse, as she was about to be reminded.

“I did tell you…” She said as she got up and walked into the kitchen. The words were hardly out of her mouth when he got up and strode quickly to her.

“What? No…you’re not going to play that game!” Ironic considering the struggle she endured was much worse than anything the players on the TV went through. He stepped closer and grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her arms to the side. Once again she was reminded of how insignificant and foolish and unimportant she was in his scheme of things. He shoved her rudely against the kitchen peninsula.

“I’m going out!” He went to walk off, but that part of him that couldn’t help but take it further goaded him as he stepped up and glared.

“Please…” Her plea was never conciliatory enough and even less so at the moment; just the word set him off entirely and he slapped her head, sending a very loud bang against her ear as she fell to the floor. He grabbed her by one wrist and dragged her down the hall and shoved her into the bedroom.

“No…please…” She began to weep, almost like a disobedient child facing their father at the end of the day. The only stern warnings she had received, however, were the few remaining places in her heart that tried to shout about much worth she actually had; the louder voices of shame and insecurity drowned out any reason she had, and she gave up.

“Oh….please.” Her tone had changed and his mood slid sideways from anger into selfish indulgence as he grabbed her wrist and led her to bed. She closed her eyes and all the crying she did continued soundlessly as he had his way one more time. In a while she felt safe enough to open her eyes; she was left alone again. The apartment was quiet except for the sound of the TV down the hall; announcing the winner of the game, which seemed to suit the moment since in her own life she had lost once more…..

The present…Roxbury, New Jersey…The Cameron home…

“You must value yourself, Em Gai. You’re much too precious.” Nams stopped short of telling her anything else. The last thing she needed was guilt; something to which she gravitated all too easily to begin with. Encouragement was the best way to go, and no one could be more encouraging than Nams. Kara nodded slowly, but she seemed unconvinced. It was true that she needed to realize just how precious she was, but it would take someone else to convince her of the truth of her own infinite worth.

A few months later…Kara’s apartment…

Kara sat on her couch with her legs tucked under her; the strains of an Irish tune came from the computer speakers on the small desk pushed into the corner. The room seemed comfortable if much less full since Tony had taken his TV away when he finally moved out. It might have not seemed fair, since she really paid for most of it and he did have another, much newer one in his own place. But she didn’t miss it; music and quiet suited her much better than the constant blare of crime dramas and sports updates.

She tilted her head and listened as the music filled the place with a heretofore missing peace in her home; a recent appreciation for her own needs courtesy of a very good support group and a great therapist. The sound of guitars and flutes and singing was interrupted by a loud chime; a left-over ‘feature’ of her older apartment. She stumbled a bit as she got up; her legs had fallen asleep after nearly an hour of calm and content solitude. Instead of a persistent chime, she heard a soft rap against the door jamb.

“Excuse me,” the young man spoke almost apologetically through the door. Kara opened it to find a slight figure standing back down the front steps of her landing. It was almost as if he sought permission to approach. She smiled, albeit nervously and her expression urged him forward.

“Hi. My name’s Phillip Petrovik.” He paused and smiled, but looked somewhat nervous; almost mirroring her expression.

“Oh…sorry.” She stuck out her hand and grasped his. Almost weak but still firm enough, his grip loosened and he put his hand to his side.

“Kara Cameron?” Her name as a question; he hadn’t even mentioned why he was there. He smiled again.

“I just moved in next door. I heard music coming from your window.”

“Oh, gosh. Let me go turn that down.” She went to step back but he waved his hand.

“No…please. Dervish, right? I like the band. My mother told me my birth father was from Sligo, so it must be in my blood. I guess the sound drew me over here?” He blushed. She feared her own complexion matched his considering the heat that her cheeks gave off. She looked at him. Nothing at all like Tony. He was almost…what was that word her mother used to use? Fey?

“I just put on some hot water. Would you like some tea?”

“That would be fine except I’ve got to run off. I just wanted to say hello.” His voice was pleasant; almost soothing and certainly not loud. She blushed again; she found herself measuring every man against the template she seemed destined to use in every relationship. If she had to put a word to it, she’d be sorely pressed to say anything other than feminine, but Phillip seemed so much different than any man she’d ever known; and this after only a few moments of acquaintance.

“It was very nice to meet you, Ms. Cameron. Gotta go!” He backed down the steps and practically ran off around the corner, giving her no chance to say goodbye. And she wondered as she walked back into her apartment why that was so disappointing.

A few weeks later….

Under your spell again.
I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.

“No, Tony. I don’t want to go out.” Kara shook her head; a phone call after three months without any contact at all.

“No…don’t come over here, either. No… I don’t hate you.” God knows she had reason enough to be very hurt and maybe even justified in hating at least their relationship. Old ghosts pulled her guilt strings, but she had come so far so fast that even hating him would be a step backward.

“No, Tony. Please don’t call me tomorrow.” She wanted to, but she still was at least weak enough and her recovery so new that she couldn’t say the word ‘never.’ Even that made her feel guilty, but at least she could mouth it as he went on about how sad and lonely he was. His other girlfriend had left him, from what Kara had heard. She almost felt sorry for him until she realized that he probably treated the other girl no better than he had treated her; albeit without the extra manipulation and guilt associated with not being a ‘real’ girl.

She wondered, much more lately in fact, just what he had seen in her when he had more than several relationships with real girls. But that was just another ghost yanking her strings once again; that marionette on her own stage thing she and Lana talked about only the other day in therapy. And even as the thought came to her he was his old self on the other end of the call.

“No. Yes I miss you.” She shook her head; a morsel thrown to someone with no care for her needs.

“No. It’s not good for me to see you. You hurt me, no matter what I do, and I can’t let that happen anymore.”

It wasn’t an event; his behavior was his selfish choice, but in a way she was right. It was entirely up to her what and whom she allowed into her life, no matter what they did or didn’t do. Lana had her visualizing some things that would let her reinforce what she was learning about herself. She imagined looking up to see giant scissors cut the strings that held her, but instead of going from a supported droop, she saw herself standing straighter and with much more strength than she could have ever imagined only a few months before. She noticed that a few seconds had gone by and she could hardly recall what he had been going on about. She smiled at him across several miles of airspace and spoke at last.

“Goodbye, Tony.” No epithets or clever signoff; she was content to just say goodbye, since goodbye said exactly how she felt and thought and knew. It was finally over.

A late quiet Saturday night a few weeks later…

It had been only a few months since Tony had moved out and only a few weeks since the phone call that sealed her fate as his EX-girlfriend. Even her friends in recovery would be quick to remind her that getting into another relationship so soon was at best ill-advised. Still, she found herself daydreaming about Tony, or at least a guy who might be as cute as he was. Or even just someone to hold her at night; no matter what the afternoons and mornings might angrily visit upon her. But just as much as she needed to avoid Tony, she needed even more to avoid the old Kara. It couldn’t be about looks alone or charm; that had gotten her into trouble too frequently in the past. She heard Lana’s voice in her head.

“Now Kara? What does that say about you?” She nodded at the picture in her head of Lana’s smile and nod; a welcoming face that made her words easier to hear.

“Sorry.” She apologized and smiled at the notion before continuing.

“I got myself into trouble.”

She could almost see the look of relief on Lana’s face. Whatever choices Kara would make would be hers entirely to own and either enjoy or learn from whatever disappointment they held. She heard a car drive up in front of her apartment. It must be Phillip. She found she had been thinking a lot about him lately; a throwback to a perceived need to be with someone. It wasn’t wrong to want to be with someone, but she wanted to get to the place where she didn’t require someone. She got up and looked out the window, but instead of Phillip, she saw a fairly tall young woman on his landing. The woman sorted through the keys in her hand and unlocked the door to his apartment and entered it.

To say that she was disappointed would be an understatement, and for more than several reasons. She found herself once again longing for that scorpion-like arrangement she had with Tony; the sting of betrayal was bearable if only he would hold her once again, and that was a bit disheartening. And of course she felt disappointed in her reaction; hadn’t she put those needs behind her? Wasn’t she on her way to recovery? A small bump in an otherwise fairly navigable path, to be sure, but who doesn’t want to get better?

But the biggest disappointment was an odd feeling of guilt over finding herself left out of a relationship she hadn’t yet started; as if by some destiny or kismet, she was meant to be with someone just like Phillip. And why did she feel drawn to someone so unlike Tony? Someone who didn’t really fit any impression of what she felt she needed. And even with that, she still felt she needed him; badly, as a matter of fact. And that made her feel most disappointed in herself.

And the last thing she wanted to do at that point was the one thing she knew how to do better than anyone she knew; an artisan of sorts in a very well organized guild that specialized in self-pity. She walked back to the couch and hit the remote on her CD player before falling back in a wave of defeated tears, feeling completely lost.

Next: Waiting for the Rain to Fall

Good Enough
Words and music by
Amy Lee
As performed by
Evanescence
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19V-GhZlDGU