Hold Onto Your Dreams

Today is the day that I break my mom's heart again. They have to make the very dreadful drive here under the pretense to come to visit. Unfortunately, neither Isabella nor me have told them about where I am currently finding myself. We have lied to them and told them that I am back safely at home.

Well, we did not completely lie; I am at home, just not at the real home where I should be. When they said that they wanted to come to see me, we did not have the heart to tell them what is really going on.

So yes…my mom is going to cry.

And…my dad is going to be pissed.

As for me, my spirits are up, and I am so ready to go home, but this wise-ass doctor feels the need to keep me here for at least a few days. Like not being able to do what I want is bad enough, now I have to be stuck in this bed here.

Isabella keeps on telling me that she does not know how I can keep on smiling. I say, well, what is the purpose of feeling sad for myself. My only concern is how this is affecting her and the baby. I can still not get over how damn big she is. And every time that little man kicks, I can still not get over that warm fuzziness I feel inside either. Right now, the only two constant things in my life are my fiancé and my baby.

Which does lead me to this. We have not set a date yet, and I know that it is going to be one of my mom's questions. Well, I ain't getting married like this, so it will not be happening in the next four months. I know that Isabella understands that. She has been so supportive; I cannot wish for a greater woman by my side.

So with that very woman next to me, I can see the nerves growing on her. She is about to go home and meet up with my parents. God, how I hate that she has to do this alone, but she has insisted that she rather bring them here than let them come themselves. Yes, this is such a messed-up situation, but we have run through the scenarios so many times in the past two days that I reluctantly agreed for her to do it.

And as she looks down at me with those deep brown eyes, I cannot help but let the tears fall down my cheek, "Boo, you don't have to do this."

"Hey, sol…" yes, she still forgets that I do not want to be called that. I think, in a way, I am being pathetic, but right now, how can I feel like a soldier when I can't feel like a man.

"Hey," she starts again. I am going to fetch them, you…you just hang in there."

With that, she turns and leaves my hospital room; I know that she is crying that is why she is not facing me as she walks out the door. If I ever felt like a burden, then right now, this is the perfect time to feel like one.

So while she is off to bring shock to my parents, I am lying here with only my thoughts. Now, there is a story that I can tell you about a man that has been here before. Then he only had trouble with his one leg, but yet, that man proved that he could become a Marine again. Now, this man finds himself with not one but two legs that do not quite want to work. But guess what, this fucking man is going to become a Raider.

Well, his fiancé does not quite know about it yet. But we will cross that bridge once I can walk.

And walk, that is what my mom and my dad are doing right now; at this very minute, they are walking into this room where there are about to come to a thousand emotions into play.

My mom does not hesitate; she does not even wonder; she immediately races over to me and can only but utter a few words from underneath her sobbing tears, "My god, Clayton, what happened?"

But before I answer, I watch my dad; he is standing in the doorway next to Isabella. He does not move; he does not say anything; he just stands there motionless like he has seen a ghost. And then from behind him, out steps my brother, I hear as he curses, and my dad has to catch him as he nearly falls to his knees.

So I am lying here and watching as my entire family falls apart because I am stubborn, and I will continue to be stubborn to do the things that I love. But how do I explain to them that this does not bother me, that this is just a setback? I signed up for this; it is what drives my bones, even if those bones are broken.

With saying that, my mom, who has now fallen down with her head on my chest, gets her breath back and looks at me, "Clay, what happened? What is wrong?"

It takes me a few seconds to find my own breath as I explain to her, with my dad looking on, why I am here. And as expected, my mom breaks down again, "God, please tell me that you are going to be okay?"

"Yes, mom," I give her a shy smile, but truly a real one. "I am going to be perfectly fine. I just have to learn to walk."

And I should not have said that, for next, my dad comes closer, and I can hear the anger in his voice, "What do you mean that you need to learn to walk again?"

I try not to snap at him, for I know he means well, but this is not the time for anger. Not only is it upsetting my mom, but I can see Isabella is crying again.

"Dad, I need to get a new prosthetic; I need to learn how to walk on it. As with the other leg, well, only time and the physio will tell."

"But for god sake, Clayton," his face grow hot from his anger. "Why do you insist on doing this if this is what is going to happen. You have a wife and child. How can you have been so reckless?"

Then that is me, I snap back at him, "At least you are not standing between forty-three caskets looking for me. I will continue to do this. It is what I live for. My family and being a Marine."

Well, yes, again, I should not have said that, for now; I have Isabella glaring at me, so not trying to make a scene, she casually steps forward, "What do you mean to continue doing this?"

"Is this like 'Pick on fucking Clayton?' I am merely making a statement."

At least then Matty comes and stands next to me; in one very rare moment, he takes my hand and squeezes it. "I am just glad you are here. I don't care how many broken bones you have." He looks at my mom and dad, and quite daringly, he shakes his head at them. "You are constantly looking for all the wrongs that Clayton and I are doing. Have you stopped for one second and see the good?"

I watch as that anger in my father grows, as he is about to give Matty a good scolding, but then he backs off. "Sorry, son. I, well, your mom and me, we just did not expect to see this."

Isabella pulls a chair closer for her and my mom, and they take a seat next to my bed. Once my mom, hopefully, for now, stopped crying, she takes my other hand and holds it firmly in her warm ones, "You are such a stubborn little boy. When you were young, you were stubborn, and you still am. You were just like your father when he was young too."

Now, I can not help it, but I burst out in uncontrollable laughter, "I would think that he was an angry boy."

"Hey, you are never old enough for a hiding," I watch as he finally grows a rare smile on his face. "But now, honestly, how do I get for Betty not to milk this? You know she is going to want another interview again."

Isabella lets out a burst of nervous laughter; that is one thing that we still need to discuss. Are we staying here at base, or are we moving back home? I think she can be fairly safe to say that if we are going to stay here that I have not given up on being a Marine. I might say that I am, but she knows she can see it in my eyes, and when I talk with determination to heal, she knows that I am finding that strength to prove myself.

I am never going to stop proving myself. The only question is, will she allow me to do it?"