Crickets chirp...

...at 30 minutes after the hour. a picture of two very familiar faces also indicate who this special call is coming from. i happily answer as i unfortunately missed its ring earlier. a little, beautiful, piece of me voice, half jokingly, half scolding asks why i didn't answer earlier. i explain that i was visiting and my phone wasn't near. she eventually accepts it, but then tells me disheartening news...

My Heart: "I might have to start seeing my counselor, my counselor Jan again.".

Me: "Oh?", (i try to muster out without alarming concern) >> did i fool her, or just myself? >>

My Heart: "Yeah."

Me: "Why's that?"

My Heart: "Because I am starting to miss you again."

Me: "Oh." >> completely heartbroken >> "Well, that's ok. We all have to talk to someone sometimes. Maybe it will help. Does writing in the journal help at all?"

My Heart: >> matter of factly >> "No."

Me: "Ok, well I understand. It's ok, honey. Maybe it will help."

she nods, or so i imagine, and agrees; and with unspoken words i think we both know that this is harder than we could have ever imagined, or expected, or dreamed to be. we give our goodbyes and 'i love yous' and she tells me she'll probably call me to tell me 'goodnight'. i promise to keep my phone nearby.

i wonder if i was an asshole if it'd be easier for her. (although i feel like so many times i do a fine job- which gives me such terrible guilt following my ridiculous behavior) i wonder if i took any of the behaviors, personality disorders, or complexes that my mothers wrought towards me- if it'd make it less painful for her to be away. i wonder if she know that i miss her just as much, or more. i wonder if she'll ever know how sorry i am.

i wonder how i'll ever feel whole.

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