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No matter what, I love you. I still dream of a life with you. It’s a life where if I’m your anchor, it’s because you want to stay near me.
You always held my hand, since that day in the field. Now it’s time I held my own hand.
I don’t expect to get over you. No one could talk me out of loving you—not even you. So while this is goodbye, I’ll always love you, Sawyer LaGrange.
Forever,
Melinda
Drops of water hit the page, bubbling in spots of ink. My tears won’t stop. Going to my bed, I lie on my side, holding my knees to my chest. I cry for myself, but I also cry for him. I know him, but I don’t understand why he won’t let us help him.
Closing my eyes, the tears wash down my cheeks, and I pray for him. I pray he’ll find the healing he needs. I pray I’ll find the strength I need. In two weeks, I’m packing my bags and going to Dallas. I’m going to dry my eyes and follow my plan. I’ll stand on my own feet, holding my own hand, and I’ll learn to live without him.
24
Sawyer
“Step one is admitting you have the feelings, opening the door.” Dr. Charlotte Curtis has a straight, dark-brown bob laced with gray around her part. “Step two is deciding how we’re going to address it.”
She doesn’t smile, which I like. She wears very small, round glasses over her dark eyes, and she studies me with pursed lips like I’m a bug under a microscope. To be honest, I find it much preferable to the therapist I was assigned when we first returned—a perky blonde bubbling with optimism.
I don’t feel optimistic.
A fountain sits on a credenza behind her desk, and it makes a rippling noise. I let the calming sound fill the silence as I think about her statements.
“I don’t want the meds.” I’ve read about the drugs commonly prescribed for PTSD, and I don’t like the side effects.
She nods, making a note on a yellow legal pad on her desk. “There’s some very strong research supporting meditation as an alternative to psychotropic drugs for PTSD.”
“Meditation… that’s just thinking.” I nod, liking this idea. “I do that a lot already.”
“Actually, meditation is not thinking. It’s the opposite.” She meets my gaze. “Meditation is clearing your mind so you achieve an emotionally calm state. Thoughts might come, but you create distance from them, like watching clouds go by.”
I sit back in my chair thinking about this
. “A calm state.”
Her smile is reassuring. “It’s not as easy as it sounds, but I have several programs I can recommend for you to try…”
This is good.
“Do you have any questions for me? Anything you want to know?”
“Yes.”
Her brow furrows, and she leans forward expectantly.
I ask the question perplexing me most. “Why now?”
“You mean why is this condition manifesting now?”
“Exactly. Why not sooner? Why not right when I got home?”
“Any number of reasons.” She shrugs, lifting her heavy black pen and turning it in her fingers. “Perhaps an event triggered it, a dramatic change in your life, a new baby—”
“It didn’t happen when Dove was born.” My brain kicks into gear, cycling through everything she’s saying and trying to find a match.
“Dove is your daughter?”
