the aftermath of us ✓

letter fifteen

thursday 24 (apr)

dear trevor,

it's been a while since i've written a letter to you. at least a couple weeks. i ended up talking to the therapist a few days after the whole reed thing. i wasn't entirely sure how to feel anymore. i was hoping the therapist could help me.

her name is dr. alice. she's very kind. everything about her is kind and soft. her voice, her cheeks, her smile. i'm glad she's my therapist.

her little room only had a couple leathery chairs in it and a potted plant in the corner. a few bookcases lined the walls but she told me it was only really for aesthetic purposes. her whole setup was fit for a movie. she got me to sit down and before she asked any questions, she assured me that she's here to help me and not to judge. then she asked me why i finally decided to visit her. i just told her i was confused and very sad all the time. i didn't elaborate much but it seemed like she understood everything.

she asked me why. i just shrugged. there were a few reasons; you, amelia, reed, you and amelia always in my view being happy, everyone around me seems okay while i'm not and it makes me feel smaller than usual. i didn't tell her all that, though. she nodded. she asked me whether i'd been trying to find a way to overcome the sadness, a way to vent.

i've been writing letters. that's all i answered with. she hadn't moved from her seat, her pen still hovering above her notepad with a thousand scribbles in it. i could see a few slips of paper poking out with notes on them.

to who?

to trevor. he used to be my friend. i felt my heart start to hammer when you name slipped into the air. you're never present when i say your name but just the familiar sound makes me feel like you're still there, standing by my shoulder.

dr. alice just nodded again and finally wrote something down. she asked about you. how close we were. what i was writing in these letters. if it was okay if we continued to talk about you. i replied quietly, my answers never exceeding twelve words. it hurt to talk about you. i've kept things bottled up and suddenly i'm being smashed against the side of a table and pouring out to a stranger. it hurts but it helps. i think, anyways.

before i knew it, the session was over and she was leading me into the hallway. she smiled at me and gave me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. she told me to call her secretary to confirm the next appointment date and that she's quite flexible with times so there's no reason to worry.

then i left. i got home and i just laid in bed before getting up to reread my letters. i hadn't written since then. i think this might just be why i can't let go of you. your awful legacy lives on in these letters.

i want to say don't expect anymore of these. but i've never been good at breaking bad habits. i haven't broken you yet.

from,

leslie

a/n: ayyy two updates in two days!! i'm proud of myself tbfh. thanks for getting this to 31 in short story btw!!! it's the highest ranking i've gotten for this book so far so i'm really happy. love y'all and happy easter!!