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—Simone—
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For the first time in almost two years, I carefully placed my little knife in its case, then slowly set it in my bedside drawer without guilt.
I’d let things settle in my mind over the last two days, and I woke with optimism instead of worry. That wasn’t to say I was no longer tempted to cut—because I was—but I had a greater sense of control over the ever-lurking thirst to draw blood.
Easing the drawer closed felt ceremonious. Like another giant leap forward entirely at my own pace.
I took a second to inhale, hold, then release. Once my pounding pulse lowered, I reached for Reagan’s cologne bottle with trembling fingers.
The scent comforted me like always. However, this time, instead of conjuring tears, it brought me welling hope. As if the fragrance carried unseen blessings, I kissed the bottle, then clasped it to my chest. Reagan would be a piece of me forever, and I felt lighter knowing I was beginning to allow him to rest easy. He deserved that.
I brought the dark opaque bottle to my nose again and inhaled the longest breath.
Memories of burying my nose in Reagan’s neck danced behind my closed eyelids; the way he used to jut out his jaw as he spritzed the fragrance on his neck before we went out... How the bottle within my palms used to sit perfectly lined up next to my perfume—the perfume I hadn’t used since I lost him.
“I love you,” I whispered aloud just in case Reagan heard me. In my mind I added, And I’m sorry because I think I love Banks too.
I set the bottle down before the threatening prickle of tears got the better of me. I wanted today to be about rising and growing as an independent person instead of retreating into my safety shell.
After a shower and sipping my morning coffee while sitting on the top step of the back deck, I changed out of my comfy pants and Reagan’s hoodie and pulled on a pair of work-out leggings and a t-shirt, then tied my sneaker laces.
Last night I’d told Wendy my plan: to hike the Saddleback and check in with her later this afternoon when I returned. After hiking to the falls with Banks, my sense of adventure and my desire to explore more of the beautiful wilderness was impossible to ignore.
Drink bottle in hand, I locked up the cottage and set out on my way, heading up the road to the start of the trail.
~
Two hours into the hike, I sat on the rocky outcrop at the summit of the Saddleback and tipped the last drops of water from my water bottle into my mouth. It had been a hard climb to get here, and I’d thoroughly underestimated how long the hike would be.
Wendy warned me it wasn’t a walk in the park, but I assured her I’d be fine. However, sitting here in the middle of nowhere completely by myself, it was terrifyingly obvious that I’d bitten off more than I should have.
I took five minutes to rest and enjoy the view before making my way along the precarious ridge. Conscious of time rapidly slipping away, I hurried across the exposed mountain rocks while carefully watching my footing and soon dropped below the tree line again.
After walking for what seemed like forever, a stream emerged from the mountainside and bubbled alongside the narrow trail. Thirsty, hot, and sweating my ass off, the urge to drink and splash cold water on my face eventually got the better of me.
I picked a spot that appeared to have easy access to the streambed and shimmied my way off the side of the track to drop down a short bank that would be easy enough to climb back up from. Arms out for balance, I began to pick my way over the large, mossy boulders that lined the stream.
I swore I was being careful. But careful or not, my sneaker slipped off an unexpectedly slick boulder. My foot landed awkwardly in the crevice between that and the neighboring rock. Sharp pain burst through my ankle and an unanswered scream tore from my mouth. The slip sent me off balance and violently pushed my body to the side.
I fell, and a new burst of pain in my head led the way into my world turning black.
