Sam stares at the mirror in disbelief. “Ok girl, today is really the day” The longer she stares, the more her emotions begin to bubble over. Tears threaten to crawl from her eyes. She quickly channels her inner Cesar and instructs them to stay. She simply can’t allow her emotions to get the best of her today. After all, she can’t ruin the moment and delay time any longer with a makeup retouch but then again why should she have to continue to suppress her emotions? Weren’t they valid? Wouldn’t today be the perfect day to show emotion? Sam knew that her years of being beaten by her foster parents and told to “shut up before I give you something to cry about” had really done a number on her mentally but she quickly refocused. Her thoughts were all over the place. So many emotions yet so little time to properly process them. As Sam looked at her neatly pinned hair, flawless makeup, pearl white floor length dress, pearl drop earrings, and embellished open toe pumps, she felt like a beautiful princess. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be, Mrs. Samantha King”. At the thought, Sam smiled so widely, that her cheekbones burned. She began to bubble over with excitement at the thought of dancing with her soon to be husband in just a few hours and moving forward with starting a family of her own. Sam always wanted a family to call her own. She wanted to be able to take family vacations in the Poconos, have family movie nights with freshly popped popcorn, wear matching Christmas pajamas, and just begin to experience the pleasure of having a stable and reasonably normal family. She wanted a family void of the sounds and touch of violent fists hitting a face or obscene words oiled with scotch, gin, cigarettes, and rum. Yes, this is the day that she’d been waiting for all of her life. It felt so real, yet so magical. She promised herself, that she’d never expose her husband and future children to the horrors and instability of her childhood. Sam closes her eyes, deeply inhales the wonder of the moment, and is suddenly jolted awake by her neighbor’s fighting children. She lays in her bed for a moment, allowing her mind to comprehend her surroundings. She then realizes that she’s in her studio apartment in Brooklyn, NY and she’s not getting married. As a matter of fact she can’t remember the last time that she’s even had a date. Her trust issues and fear of vulnerability haven’t exactly rolled out the red carpet for friends let alone a potential romantic partner. She slowly sits up and positions herself to sit on the side of her futon bed. She lowers her head into her hands in defeat and frustration because while she wants so badly to experience genuine love and to give genuine love, the fear of being hurt imprisons her heart. She knows that until courage grows stronger than her fears, she’ll be limited to only dreaming of her capacity to give and receive unconditional and vulnerable love.