Cherry

There she was, something more beautiful than you could ever imagine. Long dark brown hair and when the sun touched it in just the right spot the red colors entwined would flare. Soft hazel eyes, with a smile that would light up a room, the beauty she held was unlike any other. She was standing there in the middle of the wide-open field, tall grass with white daisies. The sun was shining against her freckled cheeks as the wind softly brushed her thin straight hair out of her face. It wasn’t just her appearance that captivated the world around her; it was the aura she carried. The energy she exuded was like the first notes of a favorite song, filling the air with warmth and familiarity. Her laughter was soft, like rippling water over smooth stones, and it echoed across the field, bringing life to the quiet space. The way she stood, with confidence and grace, made her feel impossibly unique, yet entirely approachable, as though she belonged to the field, the sky, and the moment itself. She felt hopeless as everything was spinning and spinning around her. She let out a scream while tears were rolling down her face, and she softly fell into the tall grass. Laying there while it all consumed her, not realizing that this would be forever. Pain has no end.  But even in the depths of despair, the smallest glimmer of light can find its way through. A bird's gentle song echoed through the silent field, its melody weaving a thread of hope into the fabric of her sorrow. The warmth of the sun seemed to linger a little longer on her skin, as if to remind her that even in darkness, there is always the promise of dawn. She didn’t know it yet, but this moment, though heavy with anguish, was a turning point. Life can be relentless, yet it also holds the power to heal, offering moments of beauty and resilience that arise when least expected. She was a girl who had always admired her grandfather — her best friend, her rock, her guiding light. When he passed away, it felt like the world had dimmed. Losing him was more than just saying goodbye to a loved one; it was losing the person who had believed in her strength even when she doubted it herself. Life had already thrown its fair share of challenges her way, including a series of toxic relationships that left her questioning her worth and ability to trust. But through the pain and heartache, she remembered her grandfather’s unwavering faith in her. He had always seen her as strong, capable, and deserving of a love that lifted her up instead of tearing her down. Determined not to let his memory fade or his belief in her go to waste, she resolved to rebuild her life. Piece by piece, she worked to become a strong, resilient girl he always knew — the girl who could face anything with grace and courage. Her journey wasn’t easy, but it was one filled with purpose, love for herself, and a deep desire to honor the man who had meant everything to her. 

Her life was never anything exciting. The same blank stares as people passed her by. No one would ever really know who she was and sometimes after everything she would wonder if she even knew who she was. Just a girl swooped up and lost in a world that keeps spinning. No one would ever stop to wonder about her or ask her if she was ok. Because honestly, she was never really okay. The fake smiles she would pass off to please everyone around her, and the carefree facade. She never really had any friends. Just people, phases that came and went. They were always really nice while they lasted. Giving glimpses of hope. But deep down, she always found herself yearning for connection—the kind that lasts, the kind that makes you feel seen. She would spend countless nights staring at the ceiling, imagining a life where someone truly understood her. A life where she wouldn’t have to hide behind a curtain of pleasantries and small talk. The ache for something real, something profound, was always there. And though it scared her, she often dreamed about breaking free from the walls she had built, daring to let someone in even if it meant risking the pain of being vulnerable.

She never really had that sweep you off your feet type love, coming close once or twice. All she was ever looking for was to be loved the way her grandfather loved her grandma, that's what she deserved.  She often found herself wondering if love like that even existed anymore. In a world so fast-paced and consumed by fleeting moments, she longed for something timeless, something unshakable. It wasn’t all about the perfect grand gestures or the insanely presented perfect fairy tales to her; it was about the quiet consistency, the unwavering respect, and the kind of relationship that weathered storms and celebrated small joys. Deep down, she believed that somewhere out there, a love like her grandparents', was waiting to find her. When you lose someone, moving on doesn't sound like something that could possibly exist. Especially when it's someone like your grandfather. Perfection in his own ways. Nothing he could ever do could ever be wrong in her eyes. Every day, at the same time when he would come home from work, she would greet him by hiding in the coat closet to "scare" him as if he didn't already know she would be hiding there. He greeted her in surprise every single time with a big smile on his face. She was the favorite grandchild, of course. After he would kiss Grammie hello, sit in his big cozy chair and crack a beer. She remembered a story where her grandmother packed his lunch and as he sat down at work where her father also worked, he began to unpack his lunch and cracked open his drink. As he was chugging it down, he noticed her father's face with him saying "put it down, what are you doing?” See her grandfather had been in a car accident years ago so he lost his sense of smell and taste, coming to realize the drink he so deliciously chugged was not in fact a soda, but it was a beer! Her grandmother would laugh every time the story was told. 

Her grandmother was pure beauty and not just in how she looked, but in how she would carry herself no matter what challenge was put in front of her. Gram would hold her head up high no matter what. The quiet strength was so much of what she loved most about her gram. Gram never gave up; she would always tell us stories about how little she might have had at one time but with her determination Gram and Pop made it out. They took care of each other, Gram always held everything together and Pop always lit up her world. They were the perfect dynamic. There was something so beautiful and unshakable about Gram's spirit, something that made everyone that ever encountered her feel safe and loved. She would stand tall and not because she thought life was easy but because she had already faced the storms and learned how to stand firm through them all. Gram had a mix of grace and grit that the small brown-haired girl could only hope to grow into. She idolized her Grams’ patience, wisdom and the way of making even ordinary days feel special. She wanted to be just like her Gram: strong, kind, and full of quiet confidence. Gram taught her that real beauty isn't about perfection, it's about resilience, about showing up and shining brighter than you could have ever imagined and never let your light dim. Her favorite memories were going with Gram to Aunt Maryanne's house because Gram would clean and help around the house but after that they would drive to The Point. It was a magical spot at the end of the Connecticut River, the ocean stretched wide and the air always felt alive. There was mini golf, the Saybrook Point Inn, Dock and Dine, a nice restaurant that would forever flood during storms, and a big cruise boat that she dreamed of riding one day. It sparkled in the sun and all the people going on and off were always so mesmerizing to her. Together they would sit there eating their tuna sandwiches that Gram always packed with a sprite. They would sit by the water talking and laughing like time didn't exist. After lunch they would ride along the beachside, admiring the big, beautiful houses that lined the shore. She would daydream about which house she would live in when she was older but truthfully, those moments with Gram were already the kind of life she dreamed of - simple, peaceful and full of love. 

Her childhood memories were like shimmering glimpses of gold when she was with Gram. The kitchen always smelling so eagerly delicious between Gram's meals and Pop's famous chocolate chip cookies and the sound of their laughter that will always stay close in her heart. Laying here in the field she reminisced about how she would sit on her Gram's lap and play Old Maid, a simple card game and always had to play mancala. She spent most nights here, as often as she could. It was her escape, somewhere she could actually feel safe, somewhere she actually felt loved.

Leaving Gram's felt like leaving the sun behind, hopping into the little Toyota Camry Gram forever would have, her stomach would begin to twist into a hard sinking knot as the gray van would come into view as they pulled into the driveway, it's paint chipped, windows duck taped, and tired just barely holding on. It's crazy how gut wrenching how seeing just one thing can you make you feel. Just seeing it could make your chest tighten and you would tense up. She knew what awaited her once she stepped through the door: endless rules, sharp words, and a constant stream of blame from her stepmother, Stacey. Stacey seemed to find delight in finding fault at every turn. Anything to push her away and her sister. Her father, Rob, silent and unmoving, would never intervene. The house itself felt smaller than it should have, heavy with tension, each room a reminder that she was alone in trying to protect herself from the constant storm. In those moments she longed for the car to turn around and drive back to the warmth and safety of her grandmother's embrace. Where she was seen, loved, and protected. 

There was a time when she looked up to Stacey. Looked up to the beauty in the lies and mistook control for strength. Being so young at the time, just a little girl, she would never know the difference. She saw the confidence that Stacey seemed to portray and how she could command a room with just one look. All she wanted was Stacey and Rob to be proud of her, she wanted approval, to feel loved and to feel chosen like she did when she was with her grandparents. 

But no matter how hard she tried, her efforts her never good enough. 

Stacey also had two kids of her own from a previous marriage, and everyone knew where her heart belonged. Macy and Max came first in any situation. Mistakes always excused, feelings so closely protected and their accomplishments were shown off and celebrated. Meanwhile her and Ana, her sister would learn to shrink into the background and stay quite making sure to walk on eggshells, to always read the mood of the rooms before speaking.  

As a child she would try to convince herself that if she just tried harder, if she would just change and be more like Macy, if she behaved better, get good grades and stay out of trouble that maybe Stacey would finally see her worth or that things would change, be treated the same way or maybe she would feel less like an obligation and more like family. That's all she ever really wanted. But the rules were always changing, like a revolving door. What was acceptable one day became reason for punishment the next. Spending hours trying to make things right just to be told it was done wrong. 

She once had a long talk with her Grammie about this, and Grammie told her that maybe if she goes home and cleaned up the house and do extra chores that there would be nothing for Stacey to complain about. So, she tried. She went home and everyone was still sleeping since it was a weekend and she cleaned the bathroom, swept the kitchen and started the dishes. Until Stacey came out of her room and instantly started insulting her work. The bathroom was done wrong, the kitchen floor still had dirt everywhere and the dished were not her chore to be doing. Of course, Stacey said, "You're only doing this because you want something." Which she in fact did not. She was so hurt she ran to her room and cried and eventually when she saw Grammie again and told her, Grammie couldn't understand why it was a problem. The harder she looked for approval the farther away it seemed to move. The confusion of this as a child was the harshest part of it all. As a child she was always looking for the love she thought she had to earn, but when it became to feel conditional, she didn't blame Stacey and Rob, she blamed herself. 

For years she carried that weight. 

One day there was another unfair accusation and another night spent crying in her closet. Her closet was her safe space, filled with comfy cushions and favorite books and cd player. When she felt sad, she would sit in there and wish life could be different, wish she could get the same love and comfort that Macy received. She would sit there in the dark and cut, nothing too crazy, she was always scared but just enough to feel the pain. She finally gathered the courage to talk with Rob, sat beside him at the kitchen table with tears in her eyes. Stacy of course wasn't home. She sat there and cried to him about how she felt. She told him about all the hurt and how she felt like nothing she did was ever enough, how she felt invisible in her own home. He listened for a while and for a moment she thought "wow, my dad really cares." That's what hurt the most in the long run. 

"I'll stand up for you if something happens again, I promise" Rob said. 

Those words wrapped around her heart like a blanket. She loved Rob, always wanted to be daddy's little girl. Always knew he was home just by hearing his black boots stepping across the floor and the chain to his wallet hitting against his leg. She would lay in bed at night, so excited to hear he was home. She finally thought everything was going to be okay, that someone finally had seen her, heard her.  She believed him. She needed to believe him. Then it happened again. 

Another argument and another accusation. Another moment where she wasn't given the benefit of the doubt. Her heart pounded as she waited for Rob to do what he promised. To speak, to defend her, to choose her. Instead, silence filled the room. her heart was pounding with confusion, disbelief and hurt. Later when they were alone Rob came to her and said, "I can't stand up for you anymore, all it does is get me in trouble." 

The words hurt like a thousand bee's had stung her all at once. She was only 12 but she knew exactly what the words meant. How could someone she loved so much betray her in the most heart-breaking way. The words landed like a stone in her chest. His eyes carried a sadness she would never forget. And that's when she knew he would choose Stacy over anyone and anything. He chose peace for himself. In that moment, something inside of her broke. It was the first heartbreak she ever felt. Not because he yelled. Not because he was cruel. But because when she needed him the most, he wasn't strong enough to stand beside her. The pain wasn't loud; it was a slow ache that settled deep into her bones. It taught her lessons she would carry for years. That promises could be broken, that people could love you and still fail you. That sometimes the people that you depend on most are unable to save you from the very things that hurt you. After that day she stopped asking for help and stopped expecting rescue instead she learned to survive. 

She learned how to swallow the tears before they fell. How to become strong in silence. The little girl who once waited for someone to fight for her slowly began building a wall, brick by brick so no one could ever get in. What nobody realized was that behind those walls was still the same child who only wanted to be loved and that was something that she was going to be looking for, for a lifetime. But it also made her question why she was never good enough for the people she wanted most. And though she would spend years questioning her worth, the truth was something she wouldn't understand until much later. She was never the problem. She was simply a child trying to find love in places where it was being withheld.