Authors: Ana Paula Macedo
Would I be hurting anyone but myself, to embark on this inward journey in search of answers and to put my creativity into action so I could reach my inner happiness? And if Roy was the person designated to make me happy that time but had robbed me of, and now out of nowhere, was being brought back? Except that everything was now different from then, when I was that naive teenage girl. The time, along with my birth certificate and my physical traits, showed that I was a grown up. I was big, already reached the age of maturity, but still carried within me the fears and insecurities of my childhood, and despite being extremely marked by time, with visible scars, I continued to harbor within myself the hope that in a moment's notice something good could happen. And who knows, maybe it was already happening?
I took this time to think about Roy's life inside the prison. Was he eating right and being treated well? I've heard of cases where immigrants had been taken to a common jail, sharing cells with criminals and being humiliated not only by the criminals but also by the police who should be there to protect them. But Roy was not in one of these prisons, he was in an immigration jail where all inmates were awaiting either a hearing with the judge or a return ticket to their country of origin. The biggest problem of these prisoners and the biggest crime they had committed was that they simply did not have a document to allow them to legally reside there in America, and so they were treated as criminals, or discriminated against in a society that had already interbred, but insisted on continuing accusing immigrants of being inferiors and offenders.
But I know that Roy had no inferiority complex, at least he did not have one when he lived in Brazil and was part of the high society, where he was a playboy, but one day was taken by financial hardship and came to the United States in search of the American dream and ended up facing the nightmare of ending up in prison. He had already won the fear of not getting a visa at the American consulate, the fear of not entering the United States and being sent back to Brazil. He succeeded in these two stages and was caught just when he thought he was free to move freely here in the United States.
My heart ached at the thought of Roy being arrested by immigration agents without a chance to return home. All I wanted was to be able to go rescue him, free him from that prison and take him to the safety of my heart, where I thought I could soften his pain, remove the trauma of living in a land that was not his, that often being seen as an alien can bring. In my imagination, I came to think that my love could bring relief to anything that Roy went through there.
Was I just being presumptuous or would there be something there? I've heard that lightning never strikes twice in the same place, but the radius of passion emitted from the locality of Roy’s being was coming toward my heart again, paralyzing me or who knows, simply trying to get me out of this state of sadness I have sunk myself in lately?
How I wanted to rush into getting him out of that prison and embark with him to a safe island in a real place, where my script was my reality, and not a fairy tale. It was while thinking of him that I remembered an island that I visited in my teens at the time I was in love with him. But in this love what could symbolize the dry land? I remembered this island, which had a long bridge that connected land to land and gave access to people. The bridge was narrow, but entirely swayed when you stepped on it. The crossing took about five minutes but it was worth it to feel the rush, not to mention that it was the only way to reach the island.
There were those people who were overcome by fear and did not cross the bridge and simply stared at the island from a distant place because they were afraid of falling into the river if they decided to cross that bridge, but I did not belong to this group of people, I was a part of those who took risks, although to achieve my goals, I have to cross dangerous bridges that do not bring me security, I still think it was worth risking, merely for the hope of reaching the other side and being able to set foot on dry land.
I did not have this fear of hurting myself that many people carry within themselves, for my heart has been so hurt that I even thought that another wound would make no difference. In my case the difference was in healing, and fear would be not to be prepared to live a happy life with an emotional transplant done by someone with infallible techniques.
Would the freedom of Roy affect my emotional imprisonment? Would I be exchanging my freedom for his? Would I be a totally confused person with a failed past and a desire to live a different story? But anyway, I had already brought myself along for this trip and was not willing to stop along the way. With so many thoughts and expectations screaming inside me, I started to design my wedding. The ceremony was not at all what I had planned my entire life. It would not be a wedding held in a castle, but would definitely have the most important piece of my dream; the groom.
The place, I imagined, would not be as beautiful or inviting because a wedding within a prison should not be anyone’s dream. I was notified by my attorney, or so to say Roy's lawyer, that I could bring the food and drinks and also some guests for the ceremony. In fact, if I had not known that it was a prison, I would not be so disappointed because I realized that the place was not so bad.
I bought not only my dress, but Roy’s suit as well. He was already handsome, but I made sure to take care of everything personally. I had been notified that we could not get out of the ceremony and go directly to the honeymoon, because we would have to wait for a hearing with the judge so that Roy could then leave the prison. This hearing had no date and I hoped it was not too late or too early, only on an appropriate day so that when Roy got out of there, he wanted me to be a part of his new life.
To think of it, I was again taken by a despair that was already part of my life, but at the same time shaking me every time that it knocked on my door; the fear of rejection. While Roy was rejected by the country through a fragmented system, I had a great chance to have my plot foiled and be rejected by him. Although I had always felt rejected during my life, whenever I thought of a new rejection, pain welled up inside of me.
The rejection wakes the ghosts that lurked within me, giving them permission to play with me and bring to my memory all the events that I tried to delete from within myself. These ghosts seemed to make a deal with each other and do everything to torment me with bad memories, and always left me totally unstable, feeling like the lonely and rebellious child that one day went and did everything in order to receive some attention.
I discovered that one of my biggest problems was the fact that instead of killing my ghosts and figuring out a way to stop them, I simply ran away from them, escaped and left them a half-open door, through which they, from time to time, could access. When they returned, they brought with them tools that were able to end my structure. And they left me with a feeling of helplessness that could almost suck the certainty of a better future out of me. And wouldn’t that certainly be merely a defense mechanism that I used to deal with my present, escaping from my past and projecting a future that, according to my expectations could improve?
I've waited so long for this improvement, I realized that the future has become the present and the present, the past several times, and yet it seemed that nothing has changed, not even the emptiness inside me, nor the hope of a happy life. I felt like those illegal immigrants who found that when they get the green card everything will change, but then they eventually realize that they are still just immigrants, but now with some rights that are just excuses to add obligations. It sounded funny, but once you are legalized here in the US it seemed that the salary decreases. It was as if the role gave you the ephemeral feeling that you belonged somewhere, that soon you end up realizing that you not only did not belong in the United States, but also felt a stranger in your native land in the country of origin and ended up losing your identity and building another, where you do not even know what your emotional citizenship was.
As an immigrant, I got lost in the time of emotions, problems, frustrations, delusion and let forth a will to win against circumstances that ended up confronting me from time to time.
When my ghosts decided to wage a war inside my mind, only my hope can, if not beat them, at least wage a battle against them.
I have lost my migratory identity. I did not even know where I adapt better, but as my emotional identity, or was I just a romantic who still believed in utopia?
Was it because I allowed my soul to sink into a sadness so great that I did not let myself leave? Maybe I'll be marrying Roy simply to try to build a happiness that I never achieved before?
What can I do to win the heart of Roy? He did not promise me anything. He did not declare himself to me, but the fact of having received an indecent proposal from his mother, told me that something else could happen between us, more than just a marriage of convenience, in which we would try to cheat the immigration system. How will we revenge this country and feel smarter than the immigration agents?
Amid this game of questions and answers, I continued planning an imaginary future in which the protagonists in my view would have a happy ending. But would there be greater misfortune than that of which I carry at the moment? I concluded that worse than to suffer for love is to carry a void inside, without knowing how it will be filled. When we suffer, you suffer for something or someone. It even appeared as if suffering gave reasons to live. You think you can at least overcome it, but when it's just empty, it appeared as if life was meaningless and the only thing you have left is to crave the end of it, not to get rid of suffering, but the void.
But finally, it looked like I have rediscovered a reason to live: to plan a future with Roy and get him out of prison. Like a bride waiting for the groom to come back from the war, I hoped Roy gets out of prison and comes to me. I want him to realize that he acted wrongly during our adolescence age, but now he can fix a past mistake and do things in a different way.
It is true that man is the product of the environment. Roy was no longer with his childhood friends. Was he still influenced by them? And what if in Roy's mind his naughty little friends of adolescence continued to live? I think not. He was in a strange land, he was considered part of a minority, and his view of others, of me and himself must surely have changed.
I knew Roy cannot wait to get out of that place. I knew he and his attractive looks did not fit in there, but who knows by Divine Providence, God himself allowed him to end up there, so he could realize my existence? Are these thoughts I've been having unfounded or are they dreams of the teenager who was still alive within me?
I've heard that time heals all wounds, I think that's why I hoped that this would cure me, but time has passed and the wounds were deeper still, and today seemed to hurt even more than before. These wounds were even opened when people asked me naively and politely how I was. To hear someone ask me if everything was okay with me, I answered lied so, but simultaneously analyzing my heart, I realized that things were still bad.
The fact that Roy was arrested by immigration, has brought me a certain revolt against the immigration system of the United States. At this point, I would like to make a proposal to change immigration to the country, but I confess that I was audacious, for how could I, who could never quite manage my feelings, propose any change in an area that was not of my life?
Is that why we suffered so much with the rulers, as we elected people that could not manage their emotions, making bad decisions that ended up harming an entire nation? I have observed across the country people fighting for immigration reform, saying all the time that illegal immigrants such as Roy, deserved amnesty and should be given the right to have the immigration document. But if not for the fact of this immigration problem, would I once again have been placed side-by-side with Roy?
3
In two weeks it will be our wedding. I was super excited and confident that a marriage certificate will change not only Roy's life, but also mine. I cannot stop fantasizing how my reunion with him will be. Because I think I forgot to mention, I had not seen him for more than a decade. That my feelings for him, was all along stuffy, repressed, but as I was never tired of looking for happiness, despite the sadness I carried within me, I think now with the rebirth of my love for Roy also comes a chance of achieving happiness that I so longed for. I have made a few phone calls and told some people in a two-week span that I will officially become Mrs. Roy, but made sure to warn them that it was only circumstantial. What I did not mention to anyone and hid inside my emptiness was that deep down, I thought me and Roy would end up together, happily ever after. People know that it is common among immigrants, to marry in order to assist in some official capacity. What they do not know, is that there are people like me, who think as a habit, an opportunity for happiness. And what will be with this type of happiness?
Where is it right now that it is not within me? It appeared that for a long time I have experienced many places and people, and they were always detaching from me, as if around me, there was a sign saying DO NOT STOP. True happiness decided not to stop near me. All that fate could offer me, was that it appeared to exclude me from happiness and instead of it, chose to present me with a lot of emptiness and loneliness.
But this void will soon be filled. I could reach my goals. I grew. I'm an adult and now among the goals of achievement, added to my list, in capital letters, was the name of Roy.
Finally the day I had desired for so long has arrived, my wedding day, but also the day of my reunion with Roy. So much time has gone by that I did not know if he has changed, because ten years in my mind, felt like it was only yesterday and today, everything could be different. For the same girl he despised in preadolescence, now came to meet him, and dressed as a bride, bringing him a letter of freedom. I met with Nancy at the hotel. She of course was glad to see me, for I would be giving her son the opportunity to get out of prison and stay in the United States.