Dear John

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Dear John,

There are moments where I dream about you and within those moments, I am finally happy. The dreams, they are so vivid, so real that when I finally awake, your death didn't happen. There would be a smile on my face, because you were still with me. You didn't leave me by my lonesome. The smile would instantly fall from my face when I look into the direction where you usually lay. And you are never there and I can never stop the tears from streaming down my face. My heart aches every single time and it's like I'm experiencing learning that your dead for the first time all over again. There's no point in me trying to hold the tears back in because it only makes it hurt more than words can explain. As I write this, tears are pricking at the corner of my eyes. I'm trying to hold the tears in, and my throat is clamming up. Why did you have to leave me? Why did you have to die so young? I can barely stomach seeing your parents. I can barely think about you without crying. John, why did you leave? Why? Why? Why?...

The pen comes to a screeching halt as I witness my vision becoming blurry and there are splotches on the paper. I sigh and snap the journal shut. Another time maybe I'd write to him. Last night's dream was still raw in my mind. I absentmindedly rub at my chest, the ache becoming too unbearable to just sit there anymore, my nerves were rubbed raw. My eyes glance to the clock on the wall and I hum. It was almost time to leave. I quickly neaten up my desk and open the drawer and grab my purse, chucking my phone and any other necessities into it.

On my way to counselling, I couldn't help but anticipate today's session. With Harry acting weird, not really making eye contact, because of how I found him a week ago, leaves me puzzled. He couldn't possibly ignore me. He was the counsellor, he would have to talk to me whether he liked it or not. It it wasn't like I cornered him and forced him to tell me anything. I left him alone, just like he wanted. So his behaviour towards me was becoming annoying.

Throughout the drive I try not to linger on the memories of John. I needed to be strong and stay strong. But saying and doing was two different things. In an instant I had made up my mind to not show up but then when I refocused I saw that I was already close. There was no turning back now I realize. 

My grip on the steering wheel loosened as I pulled into the car park and shut my car down. If I kept my mind busy, it was easy to navigate the vehicle. I didn't have to think about why I didn't want one in the first place. The wind slaps me in my face as soon as I stepped out. I wrapped my scarf closer, pulled my beanie down and took warmth in my coat.

As usual, in no time I end up at the door. I let out a shuddering breath before walking into the room. No surprise, everyone instantly looked at me and I ignored them as I took my seat. The seats were formed in a circle and I quirked an eyebrow. Harry was smack dab in the middle of it. His eyes lingered on me for a moment and I couldn't help but remember the pain I saw in them. As if sensing my remembrance, he quickly looked away.

A breath escapes through my barely parted lips as he clasps his hands and begins going into the session. The time drones on and all I could do is bid my time as I wait for it him to stop talking, so every one could leave, so I could finally figure out why he was acting the way he was. A woman stands up, her journal clutched in her hands, and I already know what's going to happen as her breath catches.

Dear Timothy ,

I don't know how much longer I can spend on this earth. Everything hurts. Being alive hurts. Why did they have to take you? Why not me? We were in the same car? Why did I have to survive while you died? Why, why, why...There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about killing myself. And I know what you would say, "This is not the right way to go about things. You should not give up, you know you're strong enough to pull through" You always told me that whenever I was down. But you're not here, and these words feel so hollow...How can I move on? The truth is Timothy, if I knew of a way to kill myself without any pain, I would. I'd do it. But I'm scared of the pain. I want to die, but I don't want to feel it. I keep hoping every night that I go to sleep that I don't wake up...

Her breath catches once again and Harry stands up while everyone shifts in their seats uncomfortably. No one utters a word as what she says sinks in, Harry had touched on the topic but he did not address it as yet. And by the look on his face, it looks like there was no use prolonging it any longer. Looking away from him, I look at the woman again, fresh tears falling freely from her eyes. I could relate to that in a way, the words she said. That hollow feeling, dead on the inside, and wanting to die. To end the pain, to finally be free from living in the world without your favourite person.

"Thanks for that lovely reading, Felicity. If you don't mind sitting, I'll start us off" He tells her ushering back to her seat.

Harry's voice fades away as I start to really dwell on what I just heard. It's hard to not think about it now, the same feelings that Felicity experiences.

I suddenly felt like Alice staring down the rabbit hole. But instead of Wonderland being at the bottom, it was an abyss. The fall would no doubt hurt but my thoughts would destroy me. I didn't want to think about killing myself or harming myself. Felicity's words reverberated through my mind, pounding my skull. Squeezing my eyes shut, I start counting from one hundred back to one.

100
99
98
97
96
95

A hand falls on my shoulder and my eyes fly open to be met with deep forest green eyes. Harry. Those same eyes that were swimming in pain was now filled with concern. My top teeth digs into my bottom lip as I try to come back to the present.

Once again all eyes are on me and I let out a saddened sigh.

"Alright guys, that's all for today. Remember what I said today. Felicity don't forget to run through those steps. If it gets too much, you have my number give me a call" Harry states before looking back at me.

His eyes are telling me to stay back. But I don't feel like doing what he wants. I know he's the counsellor, and his job is to help us. But I can't help but be petty, and give him the cold shoulder like he did to me. But, despite my better judgement, my body refuses to cooperate with my mind and in no time I'm left alone with him. I try once again to get up but my butt lol feels like it's glued to the metal chair. The door slamming is like the nail in the coffin of the internal fight I had in my head. It was too late to try to rush out now. 

And so, I stay seated, and the staring started back, only this time I'm prepared this round.