Locked Eyes

19. Genevieve

"How did your homework assignment go?" My therapist, Teddy asks me. She's been my therapist since I was fourteen, it's almost been ten years.

"Terrible," I sigh toying with the ring on my middle finger, Imogen and I have matching friendship rings.

"Why's that?" She asks me. We're both leaned back in our chairs. This is usually how our sessions go, very closed off. I hate talking about myself and she knows this, I hardly talked for the first few months I started with her.

"Because you asked me to write down what I had to eat for the entire week but I hardly ate anything new," I shrug.

Teddy sighs and her eyes soften. "I know it's been hard for you Genevieve, with your eating disorder," she begins. I find myself clasping my hands together. "And I can see how tired you are with all of it."

I don't walk into my therapy sessions and intend to cry but I find myself tearing up, "it's just so hard to fight for this long," I confess and she nods. "I'm so tired," I shake my head refusing to let all the tears forming slide down my cheeks.

She watched me intently as I rub my nose "I know you've been through a lot Genevieve and you are a strong, independent, headstrong girl. You have fought for years and it's weighing on you."

I nod and finally reach for a tissue from her tissue box on her desk, "you have outstanding fears and you can't bring yourself to find peace and this all comes back to your parents."

What Teddy said hurt but it was true. She's right, she's absolutely right. And I've never confirmed that but I always knew that's where it all stems from.

"I think not being able to say a proper goodbye to your parents puts an unnecessary weight on your shoulders," she says pushing off her chair, she clasps her hands together and lays them on her desk. "It's not entirely bad but you can't move on and get better until you find it in yourself to say goodbye. You deserve to find the peace in their passing and whether we believe it or not, your parents are looking at you and wishing you nothing but peace."

I nod slowly and sink in my chair, I ball up the tissue in my hands "for your homework of the week," her tone has air quotes on the word homework. "For the next few weeks actually. I want you to find peace in your parent's passing, it could be hard to find that within yourself. Write a letter, visit your old home, send a lantern up anything" she says.

Sounds like an odd ordeal but I'm always open-minded "it's been twelve years Genevieve and holding in all this pain will only make it harder on yourself and your eating disorder in the future. You can love someone and let them go," she assures me.

I nod again like a child because I genuinely have no idea what to say. Our session wraps up and I'm leaving the building feeling numb, it's not an uncommon feeling when I walk out but this time it's tight and heavy on my chest, and when I'm finally in the privacy of my own car I let all the bottled up tears out.

I'm completely dry heaving and gasping for air ten minutes later. I sit in my car composing and collecting myself. I watch the busy parking lot, in moments like this I'm thankful for my semi-tinted windows because I probably look terrible.

I find myself reaching for my necklace as I start my car, it's become sort of a nervous, anxious tick of mine since I was gifted it for my birthday. I need to clear my mind so I decided to head to my favorite park, Emerald View Park. A park I went to a lot with my parents.

It's the one place where I find peace just because of all the memories here, nothing but happiness. I find myself sitting under a tree for almost two hours before Penny calls me, it almost makes me jump.