LOVE AFTER PAIN

Bella Ann

My name is Bella Ann Martinez.

As a child, I moved a lot. I lived in all five boroughs of New York City and also lived upstate in Gloversville, NY. Now, I currently live in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. Because I moved so much as a child, I didn’t make many friends that I kept in touch with. I was one of five siblings and the oldest in the house. My mother was addicted to drugs and alcohol. When she would come down from her high, she was abusive to my dad and me. The friends I finally made were my angels: Luis, Daniel, Jennifer, and Crystal Rivera. The boys were brothers, and the girls were sisters; the boys were the girls’ cousins.

They saved me one day after my mom beat me so badly that I had welts that were bloody and black and blue for two weeks. My mom was forced to give up her rights and get help. I had to seek help because I couldn’t eat or sleep. My dad got custody of his 8-year-old daughter and his 1-year-old son. Dad had to come to my room many nights, rock me to sleep, and tell me everything would be okay. Dad and I had a conversation; his words to me were, “Everything is going to be okay. We need to get you help.” I told him, “Daddy, I agree. I need help. I’m sorry for waking you up at night.” So we went to see a therapist. I suffer from depression. My depression is okay now, but I have moments when, I’m not going to lie, sometimes I suffer more than I should.

My depression started again a few years ago, to the point where I was not eating and was not doing anything I would normally do; I would just stay in bed. The loss of my favorite cousin, JC, on September 11, 2020, is when my depression started again. JC was at my house two days before. We had a conversation, and I told him, “Cuz, go downstairs and go to sleep. You look like you’re going to pass out.” His last few words to me were, “I’m good, cuzzo. So when are you going to cook that fish again?” Knowing I’m Catholic, I cook fish on Fridays. I told him to come over on Friday, and I would make him fish. I then said, “I love you.” He said, “I love you too. See you Friday.”

Not realizing that our last conversation would be two days before he passed, I was at work at 8 a.m. when I got the phone call. I couldn’t breathe; I had a panic attack at work. I was turning blue, crying, shaking, and collapsed on the ground. My boss, back then working for a flyer company, was also an auxiliary police officer, so he had an emergency kit in the car. In my family, we don’t say “Bye”; we say “See you later,” or if we are on the phone, it’s “I’ll talk to you later.”

Bella endured a verbally and emotionally abusive relationship with Patrick. The only reason she stayed was for his son, who had lost his mother at sixteen. As the years passed and the boy turned twenty-three, Bella realized it was time to move on. As a Cancer sign, she felt deeply and could no longer bear the pain. She decided to take a break from her job as a home health aide, taking a week off to visit her father. Leaving Brooklyn, New York City, she traveled to Johnstown, Pennsylvania, intending just to visit. However, six months later—just before her thirty-ninth birthday, she made the decision to move there permanently, seeking a fresh start and peace.

When Bella made the trip to Pennsylvania, she met Antonio, a friend of her father's whom she had been talking to. Antonio was exactly ten years older than Bella and fifteen years younger than her father, Henry. Henry was pleasantly surprised by their connection. He appreciated Antonio's kindness and maturity, and he was supportive of their friendship, finding comfort in the fact that Antonio was someone he trusted and respected. Their meeting marked the beginning of a new chapter in Bella's life, as she found comfort and companionship in someone who understood her journey.

During her week-long visit, Bella spent time discussing with Henry the possibility of moving closer to him, as she deeply loved her father. Meanwhile, something was quietly developing between her and Antonio. Six months later, back in New York, a violent incident with Patrick became the final straw. After an argument, Patrick hit Bella and drove dangerously fast on a road known as Snake Road, which was notorious for its sharp turns. When he stopped at a red light at the end of the highway, Bella tried to get out of the car, but Patrick grabbed her forcefully and wouldn’t let go. Desperate, she pressed on a spot on his wrist until he released her, but then he punched her in the arm and face. That was Bella’s breaking point. She called her dad and pleaded, “Please come get me.” When Antonio heard what happened, he gave her space, but their feelings for each other grew stronger. In time, Bella fell in love with her father’s friend, finding comfort and hope for a new beginning.

After reaching her breaking point, Bella packed her belongings and prepared for a new chapter. Even before moving, she and Antonio spoke for hours every day on the phone, building a deep connection. When they finally met in person, their bond grew even stronger. Antonio, who lives with cerebral palsy, impressed Bella with his resilience and warmth. Their shared conversations and understanding brought comfort and hope as Bella settled into her new life.

Bella and Antonio officially became a couple in July. By September 22, they had obtained their marriage license, and in October, they were married. Remarkably, it had been one year since they first met in January, but their connection began long before that. For a year prior, they spoke daily, as Antonio was a trusted friend of Henry and even had keys to Henry's home to help wake him when needed. Their relationship, built on trust and understanding, blossomed into a loving marriage.Being the oldest of five siblings wasn't just a title; it was a job I started before I was ready. When life at home became too heavy, I did what I had to do: I dropped out of school. My own dreams were tucked away in a drawer so I could make sure my younger siblings were fed and cared for.

I spent years working odd jobs, taking whatever I could find to keep us afloat. Eventually, that path led me to become a home health aide. It was a job that fit me—I already knew how to care for people who couldn't care for themselves. I spent my days in Brooklyn tending to others, even while my own heart was struggling in silence.But the story didn't end with me just surviving. After moving to Pennsylvania and finding peace with António, something changed. For the first time, I wasn't just taking care of everyone else; I had someone taking care of me.

With António’s encouragement and the stability of our new life, I did something for Bella. I went back. After we were married, I finally finished my high school education. Standing there with that diploma was about more than just a piece of paper—it was proof that the girl who had to quit to save her family had finally saved herself, too.In New York, I spent years as a Home Health Aide, providing a helping hand to those who couldn't care for themselves. But in Pennsylvania, my calling grew deeper. I transitioned into working as a Hospice Aide, standing in the gap for families during their most sacred and difficult moments.

After losing JC, I knew exactly how much a little kindness meant when the world felt like it was ending. Every patient I tucked in, every hand I held, and every quiet conversation I had with a grieving family was a way of honoring the love I had for my own cousin. I realized that my own pain had given me a unique ability to sit with others in theirs. I wasn't just doing a job; I was providing the peace I had once fought so hard to find for myself.