Free Fighting for Arielle by Karina Sharp

have fun with good-looking men.  Besides, he doesn’t even know my real name.”
    “I know!  I figured that must be your stage name when he first said it.  I’m pretty sure he knows it’s not your real name too, but he was a good sport about it.” 
    Shifting tones, she says, “But really, Ari, there is something between the two of you.  I know you haven’t confided much in me about your marriage to Brody, but I can tell you that I see you just about every day, and every day you look a little more deflated, as if someone is chipping away at your soul little by little and replacing it with misery.  I see how you try to smile through the pain and give the ‘everything-is-great’ act, but I know better.  You’re not as good at masking your emotions, especially your pain, as you think.  But, what I saw tonight was someone who was care-free, happy, enjoying themselves, and just freaking being you.  That’s what you deserve all of the time.”
    I feel like I might choke from the tightness my throat is feeling caused by what Macy just said.  
    “You don’t know what I deserve,” I mumble.
    Macy slams on the brakes and changes to her loud voice that she uses to tell our PT guys what to do.  “No!  YOU don’t know what you deserve!  If you think you deserve to live a life of isolation, of losing yourself to depression and loneliness, and feeling as if you’re worthless and have nothing to offer this world, then you are the biggest loon on the planet and grossly mistaken.  You are one of the coolest chicks I’ve ever known.  You’re hilarious and look at everything from an interesting perspective, which makes others look at their world in a different way.  Not to mention that you’re freaking gorgeous, and I am so jealous of how sexy and alluring you are to people.  I know somewhere, locked away in a deep chasm of your brain, you know that too.  It’s just been pushed way down by people who honestly don’t deserve you or an iota of your attention.”
    Taken aback by the vigor and passion with which she just addressed me, I don’t know what to say.  Everything I’ve kept bottled in for so long begins to manifest itself in the form of tears and snot.  Lots of it.  
    Macy pulls to the side of the road, places the car in park, unbuckles her seatbelt, and brings me into her arms as I sob- no, ugly cry -into my hands.  
    All of the tears hidden behind smiles, the reassuranc es of “I’m fine,” and the fake “look on the bright side” faith-in-humanity-despite-knowing-that-I-am-destined-for-a-future-of-misery persona all flood my senses at once.  The worst part is that I know I chose this path for myself.  I may not have been able to predict exactly how my relationship with Brody would evolve or how cruel he would become, but I do know that my worst fears of being lonely and unloved have transcended into reality, despite my being married.
    Macy quietly holds me in her arms for a great deal of time until I stop shaking, tears stop flowing, and sobs stop screeching from my chest.  
    When I regain some composure and indicate that it’s alright to continue our journey, Macy and I ride to my house in silence.  We pull into the driveway and I wipe my eyes once more for good measure.  
    Macy gives me a hug and a reassuring smile.  “There are people who can help you, you know.  I’m not telling you what you should or shouldn’t do, but should you choose to even just talk to someone and ask questions about the legalities of separation or divorce, there are resources out there.  You can make an appointment with a JAG officer on base.  They handle those kinds of things for free.  I love you, friend.  You deserve the moon, and this...,” she gestures to me and toward my apartment, “is certainly not it.”
    I nod in silent acknowledgement as I reach for the door handle.  I give a small wave and whisper, “I love you too, Mace.  Thank you.”
     
    S tanding in my driveway, trying to