One Million Tiny Things

Lost Paradise

Dear Ms. Coltz,
I understand that you are one of the leading therapists in the country but with the way you addressed me at our last session, your many psychology degrees seem quite pointless.

As a shrink, I believe it is in your job description to be compassionate and understanding. I know I've been rather depressed at work lately, but I've still being doing my job better than half the people here. All Mr. John asked us to do was to have one session. I'm not stupid, I know the gossiping old geezer wanted to know what made his optimistic HR manager into a crybaby. And he asked you, as our office counselor, to help him out, or as I would phrase it, be his little track dog.

You didn't ask me what was wrong. You didn't tell me that it will be alright. You didn't prod or poke.

And I appreciated that. I've got a lot of sympathetic letters and pity flowers over the past few weeks. But it can never fill the emptiness in my heart. It won't bring him back. Nothing could ever heal me again, and I'm ready to live with that. To live with this hole and aching loss. But I need atleast a few months. I need time to forget, I need time to move on and most of all I need time for what happened to actually dawn on me because for the past few weeks, it feels like I'm living in a daze. I don't know which way is forward, I can't differentiate left from right, truth be told, I'm lost.

Maybe this is a psychology technique, break the person down so that they write you a letter in the middle of the night explaining everything that happened. If that's the case, then I've fallen right into your trap. Now you can run off to Mr. John with this letter between your teeth like a good doggy.

My dear, what have you lost in life?

Your old scarf?

A pen?

A storybook?

Your dog?

And what have I lost in my life?

The only thing that ever mattered. Him.

Do I sound like the whiny teenager who got dumped? Do I sound like the beautiful bride left at the alter? Do I sound like the 28 year old divorcee who thought she had everything. Because I'm none of those things. They always have a chance to get the love of their life back, but me? Once an angel on earth is claimed by heaven, they aren't sent back.

You told me, in rather vulgar terms, to get over it. You assumed whatever happened to me was something I could let go. Something I could comprehend.

It wasn't

Our story was as simple as it could be, we met at a job interview, talked for a while and eventually exchanged numbers.

He got the job, I went home and cried myself to sleep. Come the next day, and I get a call from my new friend, asking me to come down to this cafe on the other side of town. I went there expecting him to be smug about getting the job but instead of boasting he introduced me to Mr. John, an old friend of his who was in search of a HR manager. That's how I landed in this job, because of him.

That was just the type of person he was, he'd go out of his way just to help a stranger in need. I wasn't lying when I called him an angel, he was much too kind to be anything less.

I remember thanking him profusely, and slowly we became good friends. I knew nobody in New York, he became my first friend here. He'd go out to places with me and pretend to be my boyfriend so people wouldn't think I'd come alone. As time went by, we became an actual couple.

And, I was misled to believe that I had found happiness. That I had found my forever.

He was taken away from me brutally in front of my eyes and I could do nothing about it. One moment we were driving down the highway laughing and the next moment the airbag was constricting us in our seats. The car infront of us accidentally pressed the brake instead of the accelerator, we were driving too fast to stop.

The air bag retracted, and despite it having cushioned the blow, we were both hurt. Tyler's head had hit the car door and was bleeding heavily. The doors were stuck, and we couldn't get out. Even if we could, I doubt it would have helped, My leg hurt terribly and I could barely move in my seat, let alone stand up. I later found that it was broken and I'm actually still wearing a cast, that's why I limp around a bit and wear flats to work.

Tyler began talking to me, he told me we'd get out of this alive. Maybe one day get married and have a family to call our own. We'd live in one of those cute suburban houses with large gardens. We'd go to work in the same car and sing along to all the songs that came on. We'd go camping every month and make s'mores over an open fire.

He told me all his dreams for us. Little did I know, it was too late for any of those to come true.

The paramedics showed up, we got pulled out. We got separated and put into two different ambulances.

I don't remember much of what happened after that. I was given some painkillers and I fell unconcious.

But there is one memory that will always remain in my memory. I came to finally and my sister, who had come all the way from Oaklan when she heard about the accident, was looking at me with unfiltered pity in her eyes.

"He's gone"

That's all she said. That's all she had to say for my world to crash down around me.

Two weeks later, I decided I couldn't mope around at home any longer. I came in for work and blamed my absence on the flu.

Yesterday, your words really struck a cord in me and not being a very outspoken person I didn't say anything to you.

But, I hope this letter tells you why I'm the way I am. You'll never be the same once the only remains of the person who put their arm around you on the street is a grey stone. I thought I'd found paradise but I'm left staring at a scorching dessert. Peonies and white roses were to be my wedding bouquet, I leave them at his grave now. There have been so many drastic changes in my life that I cannot deal with your petty judgement. All I'm asking from you is to understand that people go through so much more than they share. Please understand them instead of making assumptions.

Sincerely,
Irina.