All the Cuts and Scars We Hide by Garry Michael

Thirty: Wyatt

Humor me

“Humor me, Wyatt,” Dr. Tina A. McAndrew broke the silence minutes after I’d arrived in her office at Seattle’s VA Hospital. She leaned back in her plush chair, supporting her elbow on the armrest, her chin resting on her knuckles while she studied me. Her wavy shoulder-length hair framed her angelic face. She wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup, but her red lips stood out from her brown skin. It was hard to tell how old she was, but if the dates on her certificates were any indication, she had to be in her early forties.

To avoid her questioning eyes, I studied the diploma directly to her right. The words Uniformed Services University stared right back at me. Dr. McAndrew cleared her throat before she continued, “You’ve been coming here every month for four years without fail, but you never talk.” She narrowed her eyes while studying me, perhaps trying to get a reaction out of me. “Why do you keep showing up?” She asked while crossing her arms. She paused for a while and I thought she was done talking about this nonsense.

I started shifting in my seat, unsure where this one-way conversation was going. With her stare making me uneasy, I couldn’t hold her gaze for more than a second fearing she could see that it had affected me. My eyes traveled around the nondescript room, avoiding her eye contact.

“I know why you’re here,” she began again, much to my chagrin.

I shook my head and huffed out a breath about the absurdity of her statement, and immediately cursed myself for showing any emotion.

“And not because of what’s on your file. I know why you’re here at nine o’clock in the morning every first Monday of every month without fail. So, Wyatt, do you want to tell me why, or should I tell you?”

I met her stare, giving her daggers of my own. Who the hell did she think she was talking to me like I was some kind of idiot? She didn’t fucking know anything. My hands were getting clammy and even with the windows open, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Thirty minutes more. Thirty minutes more. I’d be out of here in thirty minutes. All I had to do was sit through this bullshit.

“The VA is the only place that makes you feel like a soldier, Lance Corporal Miller, because out there, outside the halls of this hospital, you’re just Wyatt.”

I balled my hand into a fist, fumes coming out of my nose. My heavy breathing stressed the tension in the room. I closed my eyes to collect myself. I will not let her win.

“Being just Wyatt is good. You deserve to be just Wyatt after what you’ve done for this country.”

Another silence.

“Does the truth make you uncomfortable, Wyatt?”

I’m uncomfortable every day, from the moment I wake up until I go to bed. The only time I seemed to get a reprieve was when I was with Kai. I didn’t tell her that, it would only give her more ammunition.

“So that’s one of the reasons why you’re here every month. Do you want to tell me the other one?”

I swallowed hard, giving away my poker face. I glanced at my watch. Twenty-five more minutes.

“Or should I tell you that too?” she continued, unaffected.

I stood up, having had enough of that interrogation. “You don’t know shit about me. I’m not some kind of experiment that you could base your theories on,” I finally said pointing a finger at her.

If Dr. McAndrew was shocked by my outburst, she didn’t show it. She didn’t even flinch. She leaned back in her chair, placing both of her hands on each armrest again.

“You don’t get to mock me. I know I’m not a soldier anymore.” Exhausted, I sat back in the chair with my head down, “Every day is a reminder of that.” I thought about the hundreds of times I felt worthless because all I did was exist. “I was finally okay just being me for once,” I whispered, surprised that I’d said it out loud. I didn’t mean to, but that was the truth.

“Why was that Wyatt,” Dr. McAndrew asked, her voice laced with sympathy this time. “What changed since the last time you were here?”

I lifted my head and met her eyes, the notepad that was in her lap moved to the table by her side, and she was patiently waiting for a response. “When I’m with Kai, I’m just Wyatt, not the shattered hero everyone felt sorry for.”

Her eyes softened for a split second before schooling her expression to the neutral look I’d come to know. She let a few seconds pass before grabbing her pen and notepad back and continuing with our session. “Where is Kai now?”

I’d seen that question coming and even if I hadn’t been expecting it, I still felt clueless about how to answer. He probably didn’t want to ever see me again, especially after what I’d done and said to him a couple of days ago. I missed him, the way he uprooted my life in a matter of weeks was scary, and just like in the past, I chose the easy way out. To hide and shield me from anything, in this case, anyone, who could hurt me. Denial had worked before, it will again.

“Have you reached out to Kai?”

“It doesn’t matter, Nothing happened and calling him will not change anything,” I said while avoiding her probing stare once again.

“Nothing happened?” Dr. McAndrew crossed her arms as she leaned back before continuing, “So you’re telling me, that you called my cell phone last night, using the number I gave you for emergency use only, and insisted to meet me today, a week before your appointment because my couch is comfy?”

The tension in the room was palpable, heightened by the humming of the ceiling fan. I’d hoped she’d buy my initial excuse and just fix me. The other reason why I come here every month. I want her to just fix me.

“I told him that he shouldn’t be with me. I told him that those episodes he’d witnessed would never go away. I told him that he’s better off with someone else, and to forget he ever knew me.” My chest tightened hearing those words all over again. He’d shown me nothing but love and kindness, and what did I do in return? Hurt him. “I told him that I don’t want to see him again. So he left. He’s gone.” The sob that ripped from me was unfamiliar and if it wasn’t for the fact that there were only two of us in the room, I could have sworn it was coming from someone else.

“Wyatt, it was Kai’s choice to be with you. Only he can decide how to live his life, and to whom he’d want to share his with.”

“I hurt him. It’s better this way, before whatever it was between him and I goes too far.” Something was telling me it was already too late, that the hole in my heart would be the cross I’d bear for the rest of my life.

“What’s the other reason you’re here?”

Moment of truth. I’d told her more than I’d ever told anyone. More than Avery and Elizabeth, more than my support group leader, even more than Kai. The next few words should be easy, but the words refused to come out. I opened my mouth, but nothing.

Another deep breath.

“I want you to fix me, I need you to make this go away. I’m so damned tired of being afraid, being broken. I just want to be normal, so fix me... please?”

Sniffing caught my attention and when I looked up, Dr. McAndrew wiped the steady stream of tears from her cheeks. She sighed deeply before, she continued, “I wish there was a pill I could give you to free you from all of this. We can’t change what happened in the past, it will always be there no matter how hard we try to suppress it. What you have the power to change, is your future. What do you want your future to look like Lance Corporal?”

Hell, if I know. One thing I knew for sure, I needed to soldier on.

I was sitting in the same parking lot in front of a nondescript beige building waiting for the clock to strike eight o’clock the day after my session with Dr. McAndrew. I’d been there many times before, but unlike those times, I wanted to be there. The urge to run away was nowhere to be found and all I could hear was Dr. McAndrew’s questions when I saw her. “What do you want your future to look like Lance Corporal?” I didn’t know, but I knew who I wanted to be with.

I was tired of hiding.

Just like clockwork, car doors began opening and out of them came the familiar faces of my group. I didn’t know their names, but I remembered their stories. I used to wonder why they had to keep coming and sharing the same stories over and over again, but I finally understood the reason.

Coming here gave them hope.

It took years for me to realize that, but it was hope that better days were ahead. Hope that someday the pain would hurt less, and hope that someday I would be worthy enough for Kai.

I hoped it wasn’t too late.

“It took a lot for me to come here and share my story,” I said before the leader was able to gather everyone to start the session. Some people were settling down, some were still standing behind their seats or had just entered the room. But no one asked me to stop talking, so I kept going. “Not because I didn’t want to or I didn’t try.” They all stopped and looked at me with compassion. I felt vulnerable and exposed, I closed my eyes and swallowed my anxiety. I feared that looking at them would make me want to run, but the look of understanding and the slight nods from the group encouraging me to keep going, greeted me as soon as I opened my eyes.  “You see, I’m not only hurting physically but I’m hurting emotionally too,” I blinked away my tears. I didn’t care if they thought of me as weak. “The war took more than just my friends,” I continued. I ran my hand to my chest where the dog tag of my fallen brother hung. A gesture formed out of habit whenever I think about him. “It took away my light and now, all I can see is darkness.

“I struggle every day, but I keep going, believing that my life will somehow get better. That I could get better. Some say I’m a fighter,” a humorless laugh escaped my mouth, and I shook my head. “But I know I’m not.

“Making decisions was easier when it was just me that I had to worry about. It’s a lot tougher when you have to consider another person as well. Especially when that person is someone very important to you.” An image of Kai appeared in my head and it made me want to run and hide from my shame. “The thing is, I started feeling better. I finally met someone who made me want to try harder, but I hurt him."

“I can’t afford to go into that hole anymore. Just getting by is no longer an acceptable option for me. I have to do more than just existing. I have to start living. The kind of living I did when I was with him. The last few weeks had been the best time of my life.” I lifted my head, to see heads nodding with understanding. I looked at Jason, our support group leader and he stood up and walked toward me.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, followed by a squeeze. “I’m proud of you Wyatt, we all are. Everyone here knows how hard it is to do what you just did.” He looked around as everyone nodded in agreement with his statement. “Bravery comes in different forms and what you just did, that was very brave.” He began clapping, slow at first, then faster and the whole group followed.

Taking turns, fellow soldiers came up to me to show their support. “I’m so proud of you Wyatt,” a man who I knew lost his wife last year told me.

“Thank you for sharing your story,” a woman said. Her son was missing in combat.

“It’s going to get better. The horrors we experienced are always going to be there,” another man said, and touched my chest where my heart was, “but with time, you'll find the good in life again. You'll see, I promise it gets better,” he continued.

I hadn’t won this battle, but for the first time since I started coming here and going to see Dr. McAndrew, I was looking forward to the prospect of tomorrow. I didn’t want to do this alone, not anymore.