Loving Raven

4. Therapy Session B

My father stood at my doorway relieved to see that I was indeed awake, "Cullen we have to go. I must get myself to work, I can't be late today. Too many scheduled surgeries. I can drive you to Dr. Mills' office but you're going to have to take the trolley home or walk it doesn't matter. Maybe go see some of those friends of yours, you haven't seen them in quite some time."

I sat there trying to mentally process the dream I had awakened myself from, a dream so vivid it was near possible to hear Raven's manuscript echoing within the walls of the bedroom. "I haven't seen any friends because I don't have any friends," I reluctantly stood up from my bed to face my father, "The only friend I have is Jackson, someone I don't think is really interested in seeing the likes of me anyhow. It's not as if he's bothered to call or text my phone lately." I pointed to my cellular device that was stationed right on the bedside table, it's natural habitat. A phone that had stayed silent days following the accident, nobody gave a shit about me. In the end it was as if everyone blamed me for what had went wrong that night, despite telling me the complete opposite. I knew what people thought about me, I heard the whispers in the hallways. There was no hiding that everyone in their right mind blamed me for Raven's death.

The ride to Dr. Mills' office was silent, I had expected that. My father kept his grip on the wheel uncomfortably tightened, and his eyes stayed fixed on the road. His face filled with utter frustration. I longed for him to say something, anything other than what he had said in the kitchen. The thought of his words stung continuously like a thousand knives; however, it was the cold hard truth. Raven was dead and I was stuck in the five stages of grief, grief that I couldn't shake.

"Are you going to say anything?" I pleadingly asked my father as he pulled into the empty parking lot, "Please just say something, let me know that you hear me."

"I hear you," he switched off the ignition, "I just wish you heard yourself. Cullen you are so much better than this, you were better than this. You're throwing your life away over a girl. Don't make the mistakes that I made. You saw how much your mother messed me up, you saw how it wasn't possible for me to even welcome another woman into my life. Don't let Raven do the same."

I shook my head in refusal, "I'm going to get past this, but I can promise you right now there will never be another girl. There was only one Raven, one girl that was going to be the love of my life. Someone took that from me, maybe it wasn't meant for me to be in love. I should have steered clear of love while I had the chance. Stuck to my guns and my beliefs, broke it off before I let it escalate as far as it did. I can sit here and think that way all day long, but at the end of the day that's not how it was for Raven. Something about her made it impossible to turn the other cheek. She wasn't like the other girls."

I retreated from the vehicle without giving him the chance to say another word, I was afraid it would be something that would only make the matters worse. I was ready to walk into the office, get the therapy session over with, go home and find sleep. I didn't want to sleep due to my body being overly exhausted, I wanted to bring back the vivid dreams I had that morning. I wanted to hear Raven's voice.

I was the only patient seated in the lobby; this was already evident by the empty parking lot outside. The lobby smelled of disinfectant and had light music playing in the background. There was no television set, the only means of entertainment were outdated magazines and some medical textbooks resting on the shelves. It was as if this was any typical and ordinary doctor's office as opposed to the place where nutcases, like me, came to speak their minds.

It didn't take long for Dr. Mills to learn that I had arrived that day, and within five minutes she was standing in her doorway, "Cullen, I'm so happy you decided to come back! I'm hoping you come bearing only the most positive of things." She welcomed me into her room, the scenery was still all too familiar despite not having seen it in a month. Nothing had changed; the bookshelves remained cluttered with encyclopedias, and in it was those same two chairs. One in which I would take my seat, and the other would be occupied by Dr. Mills.