Chirping birds outside my bedroom windows were the first sounds my slumbered state sensed from the waking world.
Faint streaks of sunlight shone through my sheer floral curtains, gently willing me to wake further as another day is ready to surprise me in the best possible way.
Stretching my limbs underneath my fluffy burgundy comforter, my hips gently shake automatically as my body is already conditioned to unconsciously execute Ansel's *somatic exercise* regimen.
Ansel suggested we condition ourselves to do simple somatic exercises the moment we wake up, to help release the trauma stored in our bodies.
He managed to walk me through the entire discussion about the dysregulated nervous system and somatic exercises as a way to help us release
I'm so happy and grateful for how Ansel stepped up and led the way on our journey to self-healing and improvement.
With my back on the bed, I folded my legs and planted my feet firmly on my black satin sheets as I started to slowly open my legs, ever so slowly resting my knees on either side of my body, as I slowly close them back up to repeat.
I was caught off guard as tears have ever so slightly trickled down my cheeks whenever I did this kind of gentle exercise.
My morning somatic exercises started just like any other morning as my focus on releasing stored trauma was lightly redirected to Mr. Connor knocking on my bedroom door.
...................
To think, it's been a week since I've been living with Gran-gran and I couldn't believe that I am capable of walking up feeling excited to seize another miracle-filled day.
If someone were to tell me that I'd wake up happy and excited, I'd assume the worse and say that it's too early to be that drunk to make up some delusional lie about my sorry excuse for an empty life. Even Connie thought I was lying!?
But right now? I'm beyond shocked that my life completely flipped 180 degrees in the best possible way and even Connie thought I was lying!?
Waking up the day after my emotional trauma bonding with Ansel at our secret spot by the cliff, my mind was ready for its daily internal battle of whether embarrassment and mortification would reign supreme in my head that morning.
It only took my traumatized brain one millisecond to conjure up a minimum of 101 worst-case scenarios, all resulting in Ansel regretting and wishing he had never met me.
Little did I know, that morning was the start of the best days of my life.
Instead of being overwhelmed in an empty cold king-sized bed, the first thing my half-dazed self recognized was Ansel's addicting scent.
My slender dainty fingers were intertwined with his strong veiny calloused fingers as if the other was the missing piece that can perfectly fill its heart-wrenching void.
On how my hand fit perfectly with his, as if it was meant to be his, as if he was meant to be mine, was something my logical mind couldn't quite comprehend.
It mattered not that we were mere strangers before. The only thing I cared about was this moment of peaceful silence.
This safety. This sense of unquestionable security. I cared not to inquire about its unknown origins.
My body simply wants to savor this feeling of being safe.
The only minor thing I didn't like about this situation was the annoying pillow fort. I am grateful for Ansel's attempt to be a true gentleman but my desire to jump him is still silently lurking in the back burner.
With my volcanic emotional outburst that night, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd sworn he'd run for the hills, wishing to have nothing to do with me. Yet here he was, his warm loving hand, reassuring mine.
A part of me that morning wished time stood still. My heart begged the universe to let me relish this moment for as long as humanly possible.
The fear of rejection and abandonment were too adamant in my vunerable state that morning.
Being so raw and vunerable towards Ansel the night prior felt odd and uncomfortable. However, sensing no judgement in his tender silvery eyes proved to be an even worse feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.
A huge part of me felt I didn't deserve to be treated right. That large portion of my identity was used to be abused and mistreated. So, to wake up, feeling accepted and protected by Ansel, felt so amazing and uncomfortable at the same time.
No one prepared me for how my body would practically break into a panicked frenzy the moment it felt the first few tastes of safety and healthy boundaries.
To be so used to conflict and emotional abuse, the first experience of comfort and safety felt like being engulfed by a phoenix fire.
To be reborn is excruciating.
To change is uncomfortable.
No one informed me that the road to healing would be this chaotic and messy.
Ansel made sure that we learn about healthy boundaries and self-respect.
The first week to change towards healing had our inner demons go on an unsettling rampage.
Both were worried that our hidden skeletons would clash. Much to our surprise, our shadow aspects surprised us by shedding light on why we hurt and react in certain destructive ways.
In the end, our demons, not only shook hands, they hold hands and mirror the parts of ourselves that called our attention to change.
Whenever one demon makes itself known, we decided to assign a funny nickname to point out that we fall back to old toxic patterns.
Ansel called my trigger, Sulky Suzy because I had an outburst while watching Dream High. I got my revenge and called his trigger, Grumpy Gabby when his trigger resurfaced when we were binge-watching Lucifer.
So the entire week, Mr. Connor had watched from having a call-out battle into hysterical laughing whenever our triggers resurface.
The estate staff had grown accustomed to our oddity at this point.
Though we felt we had to take our hysterical fits a few notches down whenever we were roaming the streets in broad daylight.
Ansel kept his promise, being my ever-sexy tour guide. Walking through where are the social scenes and the quiet hidden gems.
I've grown fond of the niche cafes by the edge of the downtown in the west district.
It was quiet and cozy. The oak floorboards gave a rather wise, aged aesthetic, coupled with the library-decked walls, books from all over the world graced every mismatched bookshelf.
The owner, dear sweet Madam Tuberosa, who we lovingly referred to as Madam Rosa, was a well-traveled, immigrant of mixed Egyptian-Singaporean descent.
Her amber eyes are so full of life and wisdom we could only dream of. Those same fiery embers have seen all the world had to offer yet still felt like more is waiting to be discovered.
Her left arm was inked with numerous meaningful symbols from cultures I have not known until meeting Madam Rosa. It made me excited and a bit intimidated by just how vast our planet could be.
To be able to have such a variety of cultures, traditions and moral values existing in every part of the world was inspiring and amazing in every sense of the world.
By her side was her lovely ride-or-die, Signor Florentine. You'd be amazed that this 6'1ft. a gentle giant of Italian and Maltese descent was a former mafia boss that left the dangerous life of illegal gun trade for our beloved Madam Rosa.
With Madam Rosa's vivacious and fiery temper, anyone would be just as flabbergasted as us when we found out she left the chaste life of a convent nun in rural France to be with our former mafia boss.
Their love story was truly beyond magically that Ansel and I couldn't resist becoming unwavering regulars. Though there is no shame in admitting that I have a soft spot for Signor Florentine's decadent souffle while Ansel couldn't deny being addicted to Madam Rosa's vanilla frappuccino.
To this day, I'm shocked that he's a vanilla frappe kind of guy.
As we settled on our regular corner booth by the colorful stained glass windows that sheltered us from the rainy Saturday afternoon, my curious mind started to wander as my emerald eyes peered through the dove mosaic windows, watching raindrops pitter patter on the vibrant garden within their cafe property.
Seeing the leaves bounce to the beat of the rain, Ansel helped me get situated as he placed our usual orders on our table, patiently waiting for the daily inquisition of our ride-or-die idols.
Hearing the worn-out kettle get settled down, brewing the butterfly pea tea leaves harvested by Madam Rosa, Signor Florentine's husky chuckle was our signal that Ansel and I are going to watch our idols endearingly have a flirtatious banter behind the stainless fancy coffee machine.
Hearing their hearty laughter mixed with playful jester was all we ever needed to confirm that true love is real.
Like a magnet, my head always finds its way to rest on Ansel's broad shoulders.
It's like every single cell in my calls to find my way back home, to Ansel.
As the playful banter gets louder and flirtatious antics have gotten closer, Ansel and I knew we had to prepare our question for the day.
Madam Rosa playfully jabs at Signor Florentine's bulging biceps as he teasingly exaggerates being in pain. Quickly feeling guilty, Madam Rosa peppered his arm with a shower of apologetic kisses as Signor Florentine lovingly caressed Madam Rosa's newly dyed sunset hair.
Clearing her throat as to signal Signor Florentine for them to try to behave like so-called proper adults, Madam Rosa took a sip of her color-shifting butterfly pea mocktail as Signor Florentine started to expertly cut her honey-glazed sirloin steak.
With her decorated fingers intertwined with Signor Florentine's sporting their wedding ring, Madam Rosa, finally feeling settled, decided to open the discussion.
"So sweet child, what words of wisdom do you want us to impart to you today?"
Ansel subtly elbows my right arm, encouraging me to ask our question for the day.
Sitting up straight as I inhaled a deep breath, I asked,
"How can we help support each other to heal and grow?"