I’m hyperventilating before I hear them exit. With the poor canine in distress I know time is of the essence. I have to work fast, even if my brain is in overdrive. My stomach twists as I begin my investigation in finding the proper diagnosis. The condition I suspect is quite common in this breed of dogs, so once I’m positive, I begin proceeding with treatment.
I’m focused on the task, concentrating on the animal’s survival above my own emotions. With my assistant at my side, we begin to work on the dog, only to see his vitals dropping. This is what I was afraid of happening. If I lose this dog it won’t just be another owner I have to deliver bad news to. It’s Brant Wallace. He’ll blame me. He’ll probably say it was payback for how he treated me years ago.
Tears start to fill my eyes, voiding my ability to focus. I fight through them, forcing myself to persevere through this tough predicament.
I’m losing this poor suffering canine, and I know there’s little chance at saving him now. The damage is done, and because I’m unaware how long this was going on, it’s difficult to determine how bad the situation was until now.
While I continue to attempt to save this life, my mind goes into a frenzy of sorrow-filled memories.
It’s been about ten years since he shattered my heart and sent me away from this beautiful place with no intention of ever asking me to return. Brant made it clear. He didn’t want to continue our long distance relationship. In fact, his exact words still rip through me as I vividly recall them, all the separate conversations twisted into one gut-wrenching void in my heart.
“I’m nothing you want. I’m a liar, a cheater, and everything you wish you never knew. I never cared about you. It was all a game to me. There are plenty more where you came from, and the sooner you get that through your head the faster you’ll get the hell off my back.”
Those words would cripple me for months. If it hadn’t been for his brother, I wouldn’t have learned of the passing of his mother. He’d never told me she was ill, or that cancer was the culprit. He shut me out, pushed me away until there was no reason for me to come back. To this day, even in my current situation, no one has ever hurt me the way Brant did. He had me convinced we could build a future together. He promised me things that gave me hope we could survive the distance. I trusted him, only to have every single fear become my reality.
The last time I’d laid eyes on him had been from afar five years ago. I’d come to visit with my uncle, who was doing his best job to convince me to take over his veterinary practice. As much as I would have loved it, life was too demanding to allow the change.
Truth be told, this isn’t really about Brant, seeing him again, or the fact that this is his dog. It’s more. It’s so much more I feel sick over it. It’s the reason I finally conceded to take over my uncle’s veterinary practice in the first place.
I’m running from my own demons; ones that have nothing to do with the Wallace family.
Marriage was something I think I always wanted, as well as children. I had a couple boyfriends throughout my teenage years, and each time I wondered if they were the one I’d spend the rest of my life with. I love with my whole heart, which in turn has only proved to bring me pain and anguish.
Five years of marriage. Five long years of trial and tribulations. Five years of bickering, and feeling incompetent. Five years of dwelling on the negative, blaming myself for everything that went wrong. Five years of wasted time.
That’s what I’m faced with today.
I’ve been searching the silver lining, but have yet to come up with anything that can be considered positive. I married someone I thought I knew; someone I trusted wholeheartedly. It turns out people aren’t always who they say they are.
Coming back to Chincoteague felt like my only choice. I wanted a new start.
No.
I need it.
For the past three months I’ve done nothing but hide from reality. My friends, who were also my husband’s friends, voiced their opinions, but did little to comfort me. Instead they invited him out for drinks and dinner. They told me I was being irrational, and that in time I’d see that nothing was wrong with the way he handled things.
I shake off my negative mood. “Focus, Jamie,” I say in my head. Determined not to lose this animal, I work my skilled hands; performing a procedure I’ve done dozens of times before this.
My assistant watches the screen and calls out vitals while I continue working on the patient. Being a doctor was something I always wanted to do. I spent summers in this same establishment helping my uncle while soaking up knowledge of the practice like my brain was a dry sponge. This is the only place that can help make the pain go away. I’m empty inside. I was before Brant walked through the door, and I will still be when he comes to retrieve his dog. My despair is a long-term battle I’ve yet to settle within my soul. I’ve been stripped of happiness, and this time all I want to do is focus on the little I have left to look forward to in my life.
“His vitals are stabilizing,” my assistant Avery announces. As soon as she gives me the good news I start to come out of my worried state.
The procedure is over. We came close to losing this gentle creature, and thankfully he persevered through the worst. I’m grateful I don’t have to start my day with horrible news that devastates a family.
“How about you get this guy settled into a quiet space and let him sleep off the anesthesia? I’ll wait an hour or so before I have Joan call the owners.” It’s important to stay professional without warranting a ton of questions. These women both know I’ve spent a lot of time on the island. Joan even knows of my relationship with Brant, though she knows better not to bring it up. I’m sure my uncle explained why I stopped visiting, and it has everything to do with Brant.
Much to my dismay, this is also a place that brought joy to my life. It’s where I found solace and refuge. I’m not hiding. I’m not running. I’m starting over, because it’s the only way I know how to cope.
After removing my gloves, and washing up, I stare down at the wedding band I’ve yet to remove. It represented more than a commitment to me. It gave me hope and optimism, which are both gone and forgotten.
Carl Danvers broke my heart. It wasn’t like my relationship with Brant when we were just kids. My love for this man was infinite, at least in the beginning.
We’d met in college, became study partners, and eventually something more. We took our time, shared our aspirations and dreams, and eventually planned our future together as a couple.
He asked me to marry him during a family trip to Hawaii. I recall standing on the beach, crystal clear water hitting our feet as he stared into my desperate eyes. I knew it was coming. He’d been fidgeting with his pocket for nearly an hour, stumbling on the simplest of words. When he asked me to marry him the world stopped spinning, at least the way I felt it. Nothing else mattered. We were becoming one, making promises and plans. I can’t remember being happier, with the exception of our wedding day.
It wasn’t a huge affair, just friends and family. We married in the same church his parents attended; the quaint ceremony still resonates as being perfect in my eyes. We said our own vows, and as it all plays out in my mind I smile briefly.
It’s uncertain where and when it started going off track. After two years I’d landed a job at an animal hospital in New Jersey. We’d purchased a condo that I always felt was too small. Two years after that I wanted change. I longed for a house with a yard, so we could have animals and children.
Isn’t that what every couple dreams of?
Blinded by love, I suddenly came to realize the man I married never wanted children, and he certainly didn’t want to leave the city life for suburbs.
I close the door to my office and sit at my desk while my mind crushes my heart like it’s done every single day since I walked away.
Maybe if I hadn’t gotten pregnant. Maybe if I hadn’t pushed so hard. Maybe if I’d settled for everything we did have together, instead of what he refused to give me.
None of that matters now. I’m bitter. He’s bitter. I can’t be in the same room as him and not hear words that sicken me play on repeat. There was a side of my husband I never knew; one he refused to show me until he knew it was too late for me try to change him.
I know now that some people can’t change. He’s one of them.
When I left I knew I wouldn’t return to that life again. I made a promise that I’d reinvent myself, and I’m going to do it. I’ve spent too much time dwelling on negativity. Something has to give.
I’m back in Chincoteague; a place that I love and cherish for the good and bad memories it provides. This is where I wanted to end up. I’m fulfilling a lifelong dream to work with animals, but most importantly the wild Assateague ponies, and no one is going to stop me from having that.
My days of letting men destroy me are over. Good riddance to them and the high horses they ride around on.
The only one who can help me find happiness is me, and I’m determined to make it happen.