I spoke to a kind person on the bus about my time spent there and how Ben Lomond always felt like home to me. I had started a new job at the local university back in 2000 and found a rustic little studio near Highway 9.
I think back to those earlier days of peace and tranquility and had one of those "Little Did I Know" moments that everything would change so suddenly after entering an abusive relationship so long ago.
In so many of my survival stories, the Santa Cruz Mountains is the third character.
These mountains witnessed my isolation.
My terror.
My tears.
These mountains wrapped me in their arms when I cried myself to sleep, hiding out in Lil' Red's room on so many nights when the end was near.
Theses mountains wept with me each time I called the hotline from behind the knotty pine walls that separated me from him during my times of crisis, the same walls in which my head was bashed into multiple times back in the Summer of 2003.
These mountains held my hopes for breaking free and seeing my family again.
These mountains held my dreams that could not be deteriorated by any amount of abuse.
These mountains watched me grow into a stronger woman that final year.
These mountains kept me safe throughout the whole ordeal.
These mountains bid me farewell that hot July afternoon when I hurriedly packed up Lil' Red in the old Camry, backed down the alley, and courageously left my life in San Lorenzo Valley.
Uncensored
HOORAY!!!!
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