Brandon

Walking back to the house after Juliet’s helped me with all the what I was hoping to chop while she was napping, I decide to talk with her about possibilities. Other ways we could come by her healing, if she’s open to it. “You know, I do some work for charity started by my friend who is a veteran for other veterans. I speak at conferences. Tell my story of serving in the Navy and coming home to battle the demons in my mind and soul afterward. While it’s hard to relive some of it, it really has helped me put it in perspective. Put my trauma to some use. Some healing.” I pause, helping her through a particularly brambled patch of nearby forest. We didn’t go that far from the cabin to do the chopping, but it’s still a little wilder out here. “Trauma and PTSD are the same thing. Pretty similar for everybody, no matter what incident causes it. Maybe if you came with me — traveled with me and got to experience other people’s stories and their roads to recovery — maybe you would get some headway in your own trauma. In your own pain. Much more than just staying here with me and trying to avoid what may be ‘out there’ and waiting for you off the mountain.”

We’ve reached the rickety porch steps, and I decide to help her up them, even though I know she’s more than capable. It’s more to help support me on my weaker side than anything, but I won’t tell her that. She doesn’t seem to notice or care, though. My words have gotten her back into her head. Thinking or fearing something, whichever has welled up to the surface.

Whatever it is, I can tell that she’s panicking. She’s not breathing normally. Quickly. Shallowly. She’s also retreated into herself, and gotten that vacant stare about her again. That cold, devoured sense about her.

I don’t like seeing this change in her, but I feel like I need to continue sharing about the work the charity does. How it really could benefit her, no matter what it could be triggering. As much as I told her she could stay with me for as long as she wanted or needed to, I don’t want her to think that I’m the only one who can help her. The only one who can be there for her, though I know a big part of me is in love with the idea. Flattered by it.

“I know you probably don’t want to be remembered about what you lost, what it was like to go through that,” I say, bringing her up to the porch, and holding her steady, “but my friend Harlow and his two brothers — all of them ex-seals and no strangers to combat — above all done phenomenal work. They really know how to help people who served and lost people to war, Juliet. I really think they could be good for you. Thery’re the Smith brothers, and this charity has really done a lot more good than anyone ever thought it would. It’s really helped vets and their families go on living after experiences that would make most people want to end it. Want to be trapped by it, hoping one day it will go away. “And Brynn, one of the brothers — his wife, Riley, the other brother, is a lawyer who supports seals who have been treated badly — so there are a lot of avenues for people who need some good in their life after so much bad. She nods at me, almost like she’s wondering what good is this going to do her. What any of this has to do with her, but I can’t stop myself. I keep talking about my other friends involved in the charity. The different aspects of it. “They have a lot of good clients, so…”

It’s at this point that I really realize Juliet’s not really listening. She’s not even really “with me” at this point. She’s just huddled in on herself, looking like I just asked her to take the jump off the Empire State building.

I sigh, mentally kicking myself for too much enthusiasm. For pushing too much too fast with her. Especially with that dumb little invite of mine for her to accompany me on the conference.

“Look,” I say, opening up the doors to the cabin for her and myself, deciding maybe I should busy myself with making a snack or some early dinner, “I can’t imagine the kind of trauma you’ve been through, and I’m sorry if I’ve been blathering on like an idiot, putting too much on you too fast, but I just want you to know there’s more help out there for you. That there is a way from trauma into healing and wholeness.” I grab her shoulder tentatively, hoping she doesn’t start attacking me again. I would hate to be back to square one like that with her. Especially after so much closeness.

Luckily for me, she doesn’t move to drop kick me or anything like that. She just stands there and lets me touch her. Then hug her.

“No worries, Juliet. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” I stroke my fingers through her hair. “You can take it all at your own pace. Your own speed. I just wanted to share that with you to give you hope for your future.”