Lost and Found

It wasn't until she broke down did she decide to rebuild her life. The god-awful divorce, her miserable living conditions, her miserable staff and co-workers finally put a toll on her. So, after a long shift in the prison known as the operating room trying to patch up and save lives, she locked herself in her tent, smothered a pillow against her face and allowed the tears to flow.

Never would she dream of showing any sign of weakness to the others, let alone herself. But today, it took a toll. Nothing comes to mind that would have triggered it, it just… happened. Like everything else around here. She supposes that the toll of all the daily stress finally came to terms and fell on her. Not that she gave a damn. Correction: not that she gave a damn today. The solitude of her tent at this moment suited her. She didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone or even leave her safe-haven. The only problem she faced is if anyone were to find out and express this concern to Sidney Freedman… she then would be in trouble. Which is why she expressed her exhausted and excused herself after their shift to "sleep".

Many people did not understand her. She accepted that because she never understood them. That was why she kept her distance; that was why she was so cold. Because the moment she dared poured her soul out to anyone, she had it shoved back in her face along with the humiliation and the embarrassment that came along with it. She vowed to never let anyone let her feel like that again. Her father was the first one, never daring to even get to know his eldest daughter and focused more on the order of his household. That was important; never the well-being of them. She was never treated as a person; just a foot soldier. She assumed this was why that she joined the military. Not only to get the admiration and pride of her father, but to also feel some sort of self-worth. And it worked. Somewhat.

After her father, came all the various boyfriends and flings that came in and out of her life. None of them were interested in commitment; only what they can get out of high-ranking officer's daughter. A promotion, favors, anything that they could think of. She was once a girl; she was now a toy. She accepted this lifestyle because at the time, she felt some sort of self-worth until eventually she realized their game.

From there came the one and only Frank Burns. He was fun… for a period of time but also just as spineless as the rest of them. He used her for power, he knew this and so did she. In the moment, she did not mind, for that is what she desired: power and respect. She will admit that in this relationship, she was not a toy; just a tool. While this was also not a compliment, it was better than being a rag-doll. For this, she was able to tolerate him and the idiotic antics that he managed to put himself into. Until Donald.

Donald showed the manliness that was different from all her past men in her life. He was unique. He was powerful, loving, a gentleman. Something that was foreign to her but she learned to embrace this new world and the feelings that stirred within her. It felt nice. This was filling that empty void that has been. This was a huge part as to why she wanted him forever. She knew this was how a lady was supposed to be treated. On the outside, the world saw an army or nurse's uniform. On the inside, there was woman. Two completely different personalities trying to fight dominance in one body. The battle was, and will be forever ongoing. It is the only one that she fed who would win. Donald saw that, and accepted her anyway. He knew that she fed them both equally. One defended the other and it was practically impossible to allow one to win. She needed protection while she also needed that bit of vulnerability to remind her that she is still a human and not some ghost who died inside so long ago. She wasn't a ghost. Even if she was, she knew that ghosts do not exist to haunt the living; they are reminders that the living are already ghosts who walk through this life with unfinished business that will never be resolved. She thought Donald understood. She thought he was her knight.

She thought wrong.

It wasn't until she noticed that her beloved began being distant that the alarms set off in her head. Like all of the men that came and went in her life, he was only out for himself. He used her. He used her for a brief moment of happiness until the ultimate golden gate opened for him. California was that gate, and he happily obliged. She was betrayed. Her pride, what was left of it, vanished. He left her soul in the cold to die and rot inside, if she decides to allow that to happen. If she decides…

As she laid here in a curled up fetal position upon her cot, all of these memories and events flooded her brain non-stop. In turn, this also made the crying, non-stop. She didn't care. So what if her pillow was drenched with salt-water? It would dry by morning. Normally, she would force herself to stop. While she did try this momentarily, she decide to let it flood for this was the best medicine.

And in the morning, after this storm, she would emerge. She would rise from her cot, straighten herself out, and carry on the life that she is leading. She would no longer allow anyone, including herself, to make her feel worthless. In these tears come ideas. This is her life.

And starting tomorrow, she will start to lead it.