“Okay, I’ll be right there,” I told Mom on the phone before hanging up.

I went to get my wallet and keys, whistling a stupid tune, and headed to my front door. I put on my shoes and jacket, then stepped out of my apartment, into the empty hallway on the fourth floor. While I was checking I had everything I needed, I heard one of my neighbors entering the hallway behind me.

“Morning,” I said, peering over my shoulder, but when my eyes met Gilbert’s, I froze for a second.

He just glared at me. I felt insecure, just like I always did around him, so I decided to get back inside.

“Forgot my phone,” I said, faking a chuckle while retreating into the safety of my apartment.

Once inside, behind the closed door, I closed my eyes, feeling so goddamn glad I was moving out soon. I liked this place. I liked my home, but after my neighbors had seen me out on a date with a guy, things had gotten worse. This building was not for me. This state was not for me.

I heard Gilbert closing his door. I waited for a few moments to let him get out of the building before I dared to open my door again.

I stepped outside. Gilbert suddenly stood right in front of me. I felt pain in my stomach, but I couldn’t understand why or how. Not until Gilbert stepped back, screaming at me, spitting on me in his anger.

I couldn’t hear his words.

All I could see was the big, red knife in his hand…

I gasped loudly when I woke up, drenched in sweat and my heart racing. In panic, I sat up and checked my surroundings, my eyes moving so fast it almost hurt. It took me a moment to realize it was just a nightmare and I was safe in my new home.

“For fuck’s sake…” I whispered, burying my face behind my shaky hands.

It had been years… But the scar was still burning on my side like it was on fire.

I peered at the clock on my nightstand and cursed the nightmare. I still had thirty minutes left before I had to wake up, but if I now lay back down, I’d fall asleep and be cranky when the alarm went off.

With a heavy sigh, I got up and went to take a shower. I tried to push the nightmare out of my head, but I was unsuccessful. Even in my safe apartment, my senses were on overdrive and my imagination conjured up sounds of danger: thumbs, creaks, footsteps.

“There’s no one in here,” I tried to remind myself, but I still hurried to wash my hair so I could turn off the water.

Once the faucet was off, I stood there, staring at my locked bathroom door. I listened so closely I could hear my anxiety. But I heard no one in my home.

“Keep it together, man…” I told myself and stepped out of the shower, reaching for my towel.

I stayed in the bathroom to dry myself, taking my sweet time. But eventually I had to get out. I stared at the door and the lock on it. I had to take a few deep breaths before I could reach for it. When I did, I was still listening… my ears ringing…

The lock clicked open, and another few breaths later, I turned the handle and pushed the door open, standing as far away from it as I could. Again, I just stayed there, listening…

“There’s no one here,” I muttered, hoping that hearing my own voice would calm me down a bit.

It really didn’t… Oh, how I hated silence…

I carefully stepped out of the bathroom, keeping my eyes and ears open as I made my way into the kitchen. I turned the radio on and turned the volume up, and slowly, I was finally able to relax.

How annoying… It had been years since my anxiety was this bad, but my therapist was probably right. I’d been under a lot of stress lately, so dealing with my anxiety had become harder.

But the worst part was now over.

After all this time, after all the stress, hard work, and jumping through countless hoops, my dream was about to come true. That thought finally helped me to forget the nightmare, and I turned to find a note I’d received from the post office. My delivery was ready for pickup. Finally.

Finally.

That thought cheered me up, so I went to make breakfast. I ate too much and way too fast as the excitement stole more and more space from my anxiety. I wasn’t even upset about the half an hour of sleep I’d lost anymore because the post office was just about to open, so I’d get to go pick up my packet.

As soon as I was done eating, I got dressed and grabbed my wallet, keys, phone, and the piece of paper for the post office, then turned to face the front door. I took a deep breath. The nightmare was returning… No. I refused to let it ruin this day for me. I had my delivery waiting for me, after all. The one I’d been waiting for all this time in this new place. I had to focus on that.

It wasn’t easy… I put on my shoes, moving slowly, and keeping my eyes on the door. I made sure I had everything I needed before stepping right behind the door, forcing myself to open the lock. I peered through the peephole, taking my time to make sure there was no one standing in the hallway. There was no one, but my anxiety tried to assure me there definitely was someone in the shadows behind the corner.

“Don’t be stupid,” I scolded myself and opened the door before my anxious thoughts could get any wilder.

It usually wasn’t this hard for me. I always checked the hallway first, and I doubted I’d ever get rid of that habit, but now I was afraid to step outside. All thanks to that nightmare. I’d thought it was over… I thought my nightmares, my worst memories, couldn’t hold such power over me anymore.

“It’s just because of stress, that’s all,” I told myself.

Hearing my own voice gave me a little more courage, so I finally pushed the door open. There was no one in the hallway. I couldn’t hear any sounds, either. Still, I took a few moments before stepping out of my apartment, and even longer before closing the door.

But after that, it got better. Easier. The excitement returned as I hurried down the stairs and rushed out of the main entrance. I ran around the corner and stopped to stare at the big windows and the dark bar behind it.

My bar. My own beautiful bar.

I smiled at it. It really was happening.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled to the bar and turned around to hurry to the post office.

I got there a bit too early, so I had to wait for a while before they opened. It was hard to stay still. I was nearly bouncing up and down in my excitement. But finally, the clerk came to open the door and gave me a good morning with a smile on her face.

“I’m here to pick up a package,” I told her, showing her the piece of paper once we both were by the counter.

“Sure thing, just a moment,” she said, and vanished behind the shelves.

She returned to me with a package that looked only an inch too big for my mailbox. Of course.

“Here you go,” she smiled.

I took the package from her with shivering hands. I wanted to open it right away, but I decided to wait until I was back at the bar. I waved my goodbye, left the place, and ran all the way back to my bar.

My bar. I loved the sound of that.

There was no one else in the bar – my bar – when I arrived, but I wasn’t surprised. I entered the place, locked the doors, and walked to the brand-new counter on the opposite wall. I stopped behind it, put the package down, and stepped back to take a good look around.

Everything was ready. After months and months of hard work, it was finally ready to open the doors. I never could’ve done it without help. My supportive parents who had helped me to get the loan, my amazing friends who gave me their time for free, and my kick-ass lawyer who had single-handedly dealt with the bureaucracy and the people who had tried to stop us. And of course, my psychologist, Vaughn, who’d made sure I stayed sane in all of this.

And finally, I was an actual bar owner. The past two years of dreaming and planning and hunting for the right location had brought me to this moment, and I couldn’t have been happier. And the best part was that I got my nice little apartment with the bar.

I let out a deep, happy breath and turned to glance at the package. I wanted to open it already, but I decided to wait until everyone was here. They had to be there when I opened it.

That meant I had to wait for a few hours before my entire staff and everyone else who had helped me to make this happen were present, but it was worth it. We had fun celebrating our opening night with cake and music, sharing the excitement, and feeling grateful that all that hard work was finally over.

“Okay guys! It’s time!” I shouted over the music, taking the simple box from the counter where I’d left it this morning.

Someone brought me a pair of scissors, and I cut open the tapes around the cardboard with everyone peering over my shoulders. I opened the lid and stopped to stare at the rainbow colors inside it.

“The moment we’ve been waiting for,” I said, smiling as I took the flag out of the box.

“Let’s go put it up already!” one of my bartenders cheered.

Everyone agreed, so we headed outside. I got the honors of pulling it up, and I did so with trembling hands. Once the rope was tightly secured, and the wind blew the colorful flag high above our heads, I stepped back to watch it in silence.

Once upon a time, I’d fought for my life. For months and years, I let my trauma dictate how I lived my life. I’d retreated back into my closet and lived there, wrapped in my fear, unable to even consider coming out again.

But that fear had no hold on me anymore. I was a free man once again, and I showed my true colors with pride, just like our new, beautiful flag did as it moved gently in the wind above us.