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Chapter 6
How can Jolie look so good in my hoodies? They swallow her up, coming down to almost her knees and the hoods on them covering her neck and the bottom of her face. And still, I can't keep my eyes off of her. I feel a little bad, sitting here in a suicide support group, smiling to myself because every time I look over at Jolie, she's looking right back at me. There are certainly no other smiles in here.
"What we must not do is mistake shared grief with love," the counselor says, making my gaze move to him. "We find someone who can understand our pain, what we've been through and are going through, and we allow our minds to turn that into an emotion that isn't real. You've found a companion, not a relationship."
He looks very pointedly at Jolie, then at me. I narrow my eyes at him. Who is he to be speaking on something he has no idea about? When I look back at Jolie, her head is down and I have to wonder if his words meant more to her than they did me? The counselor keeps going on, talking about how important participating in this group is to learn to identify your emotions through this trying time. I almost scoff. Identify my emotions. Oh, I can identify them just fine. The problem is that I have no idea what to do with them.
What do you do with anger when it's towards a person who's no longer here to bear it? What do you do with sadness, when the person who caused it isn't alive to make it go away? What do you do with your grief when the person who heaped it onto you isn't able to come back and somehow make your heart whole again?
I have too many emotions when it comes to Ben, and none of them have any way to release. I can't scream and rage at him. His death doesn’t allow me to ask him why he left the way he did, when he did. He’s not here to wipe the tears I cry for him, his presence not able to be the thing that makes the tears stop. I can only remain…stuck in all of these feelings. Identifying them doesn't make a difference. If anything, it leaves me more confused. Because I know what I feel, but now what?
"That's all for today." The counselor declares, standing from his seat. "Jolie, if I could have a word please."
He nods to the side, and she rolls her eyes behind his back before following him to the corner. I drift over to the snack table, picking up a chocolate glazed doughnut as I watch Jolie and the counselor from the corner of my eye. Whatever he says has her crossing her arms before she gives him a stiff nod, and then walks towards me.
"You okay?" I inquire low.
"He's such an ass," she hisses as we walk towards the door. "When I first came here, my parents and our therapist felt the need to escort me, to explain that I was here to talk about my grief and to learn to cope with my sister's death. The good counselor just wanted to remind me that flirting with another member of the group was not a part of my healing."
I stop in my tracks. "What the hell gives him the right to even speak on it?"
"Like I said, an ass. I'm sure he'll be telling my parents we had this little chat."
"Will that...affect things?" I ask slowly, hoping it won't.
"As if I would let them. Anyway, where are we going?"
"Wherever you want. I have three hours until I have to be at work."
"Hmm. Well like most times in life, I'm hungry, so I suggest lunch, but this time we can actually get out of the car."
"Deal. You'll drive this time."
"And why is that?" She arches a brow.
"Same reason you wanted to ride in my car."
"Now what if we get in my car and it smells like a three day old burrito?"
I laugh. "Then I guess I would have to start liking your new scent, huh?"
"I like it when you talk like that." She smiles. "Do you like spaghetti?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Then I know just the place for us to go."
She drives us to a restaurant where every single dish includes some kind of pasta. I order a plate of baked ziti, and Jolie gets shrimp scampi over fettuccine. I chuckle when the pasta salad comes.
"You and your cold before hot."
"It is the key to all things good in life.” She beams. “You want some?"
"I'll take a little. See if there's anything to this whole theory you have."
By the time we finish the appetizer between us, the main course arrives, garlic bread on the side.
"So what do you have planned for spring break?" I ask as we start eating.
