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“As long as you don’t give up on me, then you don’t have to worry about anything. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
THE WEEK GOES pretty well. I feel good, and that makes a world of difference. We’ve started a new project at work, which I’m really excited about. This time, we’re fixing up an old house. I’ve enjoyed learning more. Today, I leave early for an appointment with Ms. Cynthia. I’m sitting in the waiting room, waiting because what else do you do here.
My phone buzzes in my hand with a text. Then buzzes again with a second. I slide my finger across the screen to see one from Patrick and one from Olivia.
Patrick: Luce wants us to go to NHL game for your birthday. Said you liked hockey now??
Olivia: You’re on your own tonight. Chelsea is taking me out. :)
I take a moment to text Olivia first.
Me: Have fun.
Then I text Patrick.
Me: I’ve seen two games on TV and it wasn’t that bad, so yeah, I liked it. Sounds fun.
Patrick: It’ll be Saturday. Is Olivia coming? Luce said since it’s your birthday, you can bring her if you want
Me: Will let you know. Later. Therapist appt
I hit send and stand to follow Ms. Cynthia to her office.
“How are you doing today, Corey?” she begins.
“Pretty good actually.” I catch her up on the last week.
“I’m impressed with your progress. I’m proud of you and I’m happy you have someone like Olivia on your side. Talking seems to be getting easier for you.”
I laugh because I still don’t like it. “Easier, yes, but not preferable.”
Ms. Cynthia doesn’t look amused. She clasps her hands together and leans forward a bit in her seat. “You are the type of person who likes to keep things inside. You truly do prefer it that way, even though it hurts more. Even though it
can hurt those around you. The thing is, you like talking too. But it’s harder and why you don’t prefer that. There’s something I want us to discuss today and I don’t want you to put up a fight.”
My muscles immediately tense and my hands start to sweat. “But I’m having a good day,” I protest quietly. What does she want to talk about anyway?
“I’m not going to ruin it. This will be good for you. Do you trust me? I won’t continue unless you give me the green light.”
“I guess.”
The moment before she speaks, I decide that no, I do not trust her.
“When did your parents die?”
My lungs halt mid-breath. No. She wants to do this today? She waits patiently for me to begin breathing again. “I was ten,” I mumble, looking down at my legs and running my hands over my jeans.
“Before this weekend with Olivia, when was the last time you talked about them?”
“I’ve talked about them maybe six times since they died.” My chest aches. I wish it was a sharp pain, but no. It’s the kind I’m more familiar with. A dull hum of pain that’s steady and unwavering. I rest my elbow on my knees, fold my hands together, and place my chin on them.
“It must have been hard to lose them both at such a young age. Who did you lean on?”
I frown. “What? I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
Sighing, I close my eyes for a moment. “I’ve talked to Olivia about this some. Do I have to do this?”
