the sun - charlie gillespie

thirty three

"so what's been on your mind for the past few months mia?"

i've been asked that very same question ever since the death of my mother. and for some reason it always made my throat dry, my stomach tie knots or my head go a bit light. i wouldn't tell people because i genuinely do not think i'm strong enough.

maybe it was the deep,dark,tucked in underlying fear that the people around me didn't care or maybe that i had to be fixed and there was something wrong with me for having a large amount of painful pressure and emotions put on me.

maybe it was because if i had opened my heart to someone,things would just go terribly wrong,that everything that had happened to me before would come back for revenge or break me even just a little bit more just to fiddle with my life.

i didn't want anyone to die.

i was back at therapy. my dad found out i was ditching therapy. so i'm practically being forced to attend these sessions. my dad just wants the best for me though, so i have to understand his point of view.

dr. marshall was understanding, of course  he was friends with my dad back in the day. my dad only trusts me with people he knew.

i think ever since my mom died i would be thinking maybe my life was crumbling to pieces. i watched him jot his pen against his paper. we were on a zoom call, i'd often don't actually meet him in person because i move constantly.but i'd known dr. marshall for quite some time. he's been doing this for a while.

i shoved my hands into the pockets of my oversized nude hoodie with some matching short jogging, my curls just drooped outwards.

here i was, sitting on the edge of my bed,with my legs dangling off, looking at my reflection in the window and thinking of a response to say to my therapist.

he smiled,trying to encourage me to open up to him and it worked a bit.it made me feel some kind of safety and determination to heal my scars that were left on my mind.

"a lot."i started off softly,i didn't want to rush into anything because he would always give me the look that said 'take your time and talk slow,i'm here for as long as you need me'.

i looked down at my nails and noticed how short they'd gotten. i used to follow my mom to the spa to do them. i wouldn't go with anyone else, i'd feel like i'd be betraying her.

sometimes it felt easier to speak to her than my friends.

"i had a little nightmare."it sounded even more stupid saying out loud, at my big age.but when i said it i looked like i was void to any type of emotion. he had the tip of his pin inbetween his teeth,he looked like he was biting down onto it.

"about dean?" he also looked like he wanted a specific answer.his name made my body feel strange.

"not this time no." i reassured him. fortunately i was able to keep myself stable and reply to him with a slow shake of the head.

"it was about m-my.." i cleared my throat. "about my mom." i really really didn't want to touch this subject again. so i quickly changed it to something new.

"i made new friends though." i wiped my nose with my sleeve. please, don't act like nobody does that.

"that's great, what are their names?" he asked ever so sweetly, getting ready to write.