The Soldier Next Door

…Ana POV…

To say that I have not hit a new depth of stupidity in these past few days would be a total understatement. From bursting into Ray’s home and attacking Gibbs’s girlfriend to taking Ethan’s child away from him and sacking up in some small hotel room. That can easily be described as the most insane thing that any woman can set her mind to, regardless of which world it is that she finds herself in.

Now, should I want to try and find the most logical answer for doing any of them, I cannot come to one single one.

Why do I hate Ethan so much?

Even more important…why is my Bipolar back with such a great force?

Why do I want to hurt Ethan so bad?

Well, I guess there is only the truth that needs to be told.

And as I try to bear the pain that is consuming my body, try to make sense of this fucking crazy that is brewing inside of me.

I’ve run out of reasons to run away from Ethan. I’ve tried so hard to find something, anything that will be a strong enough reason to walk away from him, just so I don’t have to face my fear. But I have nothing.

Ethan shook me to my core, making all of my walls tumble down while I was trying to rebuild them, catching bricks of old pain that I so patiently stacked until they were thick and high enough to protect me.

And he was still there, making sure that I was safe, making sure to keep me warm, now that the hurricanes of life could touch me again.

He was simultaneously the earthquake that split me into pieces and the glue that held me together.

I’m so scared of falling apart again. But Ethan already knows that, well, only the pieces that I want him to know of. He already knows that every time I pull away, it’s not because I don’t love him. It’s because I’m afraid, but this is what I tell myself to believe in, hoping that, in fact, I know that he does not feel that I truly love him the way that he does me.

I’m not used to being touched gently, touched in a way I can actually feel loved. I’m not used to being held when I’m broken.

I’m not used to feeling loved, but he loves me. He is still here. Ethan is my biggest fear and the source of my courage. But I think that after this time that he truly does not love me and that his love has also now grown into hate.

But I am so scared of being hurt again. I am just afraid that if I get hurt once more, I won’t be able to get back on my feet again. I am so afraid of being manipulated again, of being intoxicated and twisted.

But I trust him. For crazy reasons I can’t even put in words, I trust him. Ethan has always put my needs before his and made me feel safe, no matter if it was in the woods by Fallujah or if it was in the space I feared when Brendan had come back from the past to seek what he thought was his. Ethan was there through it all; he never left my side, he never left me alone and wanting.

I trust him when he says that he will never hurt me. I trust him when he says that you will always be here.

But as the night comes crawling back to me, my fears are, here again, screaming and echoing through my mind. Pinning me to my bed, chasing away my peace and dreams.

But he is still there. And I wish to believe that he does not mean that he will have me arrested for doing him such a great injustice when I know that I fully deserve it.

The thing, though, is, do I really still love him?

I’m scared of loving again. Of not being loved back. Of being taken for granted. Why do I trust his words? What is so special about him that makes my walls tumble down?

It’s the feeling of calm I feel when I’m with him. It’s the warmth in my soul I feel when I look into his eyes.

It’s the feeling of my hand in his. It’s the feeling that I finally belong somewhere, that I belong in his arms. It’s the feeling of his heartbeat when I’m lying on his chest.

It’s the feeling I get when he leans his head on mine, telling me how I am his boo. Telling me how I’m the best thing that has happened to him.

It’s the patience he has for me. It’s the strength he has for my demons. It’s the way he is ready to fight my wars because they are now his, too.

Every time I run away, he is waiting for me. Every time I laugh away his words of love, he makes me feel them.

I no longer can see the woman he does. That is the woman that was broken, beaten to death. The woman I locked up behind all those walls that he tumbled down. But he sees her. He sees her fire, her passion, and her beauty. But that is only a small part that he knows; I don’t think somehow that he will understand when I finally come out with the great truth to him.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

How is he going to handle the truth that I have been hiding from him all this time?

Yes, he saw every flaw of mine, and he kissed them anyway.

He saw my scars and mended them with his love. He saw my bruises and healed them with his gentle touch. He saw oceans of sadness in my eyes and learned to swim in them, so I am not alone anymore.

Loving him. Letting him in. Having him by my side is still the scariest thing I imagined myself doing. It still frightens me to death, but I’d rather die in his arms than live without them.

But, I can say this so easily, yet I do not know if I should believe myself.

Should I choose to fight every day, just to see his eyes once more? Should I want to feel his heartbeat and hear him call me one more time as his ‘boo?’ I’m scared as hell to love, but should I rather be afraid of being alone?

So, is it time that I bring my craziness to an end? Or do I continue to fight this raging war against a man I know that will win?

And that is a decision I need to make in the next ticking seconds…

Why is this so hard? Why can I not just let myself go and give in to his love? Is it so wrong to let him love me? Or is the fact that I might never love him the same way as he loves me?

The fact is…

I don’t think I know how to love!

I have always just felt like an object. I felt like the trophy that a man kept on his arm. But I know that Ethan never will see me like that; he respects me and loves me for who I am.

Yes, even with all my goddamn tantrums.

So yes, this situation has grown somewhat out of hand; I have gone far more further than I should have done. However, I think that I knew that it would have happened at some stage. I knew that my demons would come from the service and not only haunt my life but those who are in it.

He is a man with a heart and that heart he has given to me.

Now, before I make this next step, I need to make that decision.

Is this anger ever going to go away?

It sometimes borders on hate. And hate is something that makes your heart bitter…I think that we have already established it. But how can I be bitter and hate someone that can bring the greatest joy to my life?

I should see him for what he brings to me, the way he makes me whole. I must put aside the small fact that I am, after all, just crazy in my head and that my Bipolar does not justify for my actions of the past few days.

I have fought hard against him, but he has fought too hard for us to be together. He has gone beyond what was ever necessary to protect and love me.

So, yes, I can say that I am stubborn and I can in that same breath say that even if I do not know, I can learn to love him the way that he deserves to.

And with the greatest pain that still consumes my body and the slight one that I feel in my heart, I take those next steps that are going to determine my life from here on end.