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“And how did it make you feel?”
I scowl at Dr. Edmonds. A heavy scowl that shows him exactly how I feel.
“Are you angry, Lev?”
“I told you I didn’t wanna do that shit. You know I hate writing.”
“Part of overcoming an obstacle is facing it head-on. And that’s what you did. You hate writing because it forces you to think. In order for your words to go onto the paper, they must first come to mind, am I right?”
“I guess. So what about it? It didn’t help me. Just pissed me off more.”
“It’s okay to be angry, Lev. It means you’re feeling something, even if what you’re feeling really isn’t anger at all. It’s just the emotion you know how to express right now.”
I lean forward on the couch in the space I rented for Dr. Edmonds. We only use this space for us, and only when he comes for my appointments. There’s no one else I’d do this shit with but him. So, I pay him to come here. And I pay for this space. And sometimes, I occupy it when I want to be alone. This room I’ve set up sits inside an old run-down building. Options were limited if I wanted to be close to campus, but this seems to work well for us.
I just met with Dr. Edmonds yesterday, and already called him back for an emergency meeting after lunch today. Just up and left while Maddox was on the phone with his dad.
I haven't been well. Something is brewing inside me and if I don’t get to the bottom of it soon, something bad could happen. Something very bad.
Elbows pressed to my knees, I rest my head in my hands.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, and I just shake my head back and forth, not bothering to look at him.
“That this was a waste of time.”
“Let’s try again.”
I lift my head abruptly as Dr. Edmonds picks up my notebook from the center of the room. When he offers it to me, I slap it out of his hand, sending it to the floor. “Fuck no. I’m not writing anymore.”
“Then will you talk?”
A heavy sigh escapes me, and I roll my neck, stretching my tense muscles. “Fine. You talk. I’ll listen.”
“How about, I ask questions and you answer?”
My hands go in the air before I slap them to my knees. I sink back into the couch, knowing this is going to take a while.
“At what point did you feel like something shifted inside you?”
My eyes snap wide open.
“No. No, Lev. Not that. I’m talking about recently. What was it that unsettled you?”
I relax again, glad he’s not taking me back tothatday.
Those meetings are the worst. Those are the ones that bring me into the depthless parts of the ocean and make me want to never come up for air.
“It’s Maddox and Ridge. They’ve been preoccupied with school and other shit and I’m feeling…” My words trail off, unsure how to finish. What am I feeling? Why can’t I understand what I’m feeling?
“Go on,” Dr. Edmonds presses. “You’re feeling?”
My shoulders rise, holding their position, but when I say, “Lost,” they relax.
“You feel lost?”
“Dammit!” I snap. “Quit repeating what I say. You know damn well what I just said.”
Dr. Edmonds raises both his hands, slowly lowering them in an attempt to calm me, but it does just the opposite. “Why do you feel lost, Lev?”
