Part 49

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"A shadow is never created in darkness. It is born of light. We can be blind to it and blinded by it. Our shadow asks us to look at what we don't want to see." 

-Terry Tempest Williams

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"I want to die." Another two weeks had passed. And, if I had to spend another second here I was gonna throw myself out of a window.

I missed my mom. I missed my friends. I missed Emma. I missed my life outside these walls.

I had already been here two months, I couldn't handle it anymore.

"Why?"

"Why not? Life is the fucking worst. Death has to be better."

"Have you ever been out of the country?"

"What?

"Have you ever been out of the country?" Dr.Goldman repeated. Her voice having a strange hardness. Her eyes locked on me. She seemed upset with me.

"No," I answered in confusion.

"Have you ever even seen the ocean?"

"No..." I answered hesitantly.

"Have you ever been fired from your job?"

"No."

"Have you ever even had a job?"

"No." My voice small. What was she getting at?

"Have you ever lived in an apartment with your best friend?"

"No."

She leaned back in her seat. "Have you ever been in love?"

I paused. My eyes searching hers. "What's your point?" I asked avoiding answering her question.

"My point is there are so many things you haven't experienced yet. I'm not saying that because you're young what you have experienced hasn't been hard. I'm saying you still have time to change all the things that make you unhappy. You've spent, what, the last 17 years with your parents living under their expectations and rules? You've spent almost 12 of those years in school being told when to eat, what to wear, and when to you could use the bathroom. If anything, You haven't been given a chance to really live yet."

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**ONE WEEK LATER**

"Danial-" Dr.Goldman started, but I cut her off. "I tired of talking about the same shit all the time." I sighed as I laid back. She tilted her head as she smiled at me. "Okay, then what do you want to talk about?" She asked. Her hands folded together.

"Love," I answered as I looked up at the ceiling.

"Love?"

"Yeah, love." I'd been thinking about love a lot lately.

Mostly, about if it really existed or not. I thought I knew, but I wasn't so sure anymore.

If love did exist then it was pretty fucked up.

"What about Love do you want to talk about?"

"About how fucked up it is," I said smoothly. Ashley had been right.

Love was an illusion created to blind you from the faults in life.

The confusion was clear in her voice. "How?" Goldman asked.

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