Meet me in the Middle

Chapter 1

"Do you hear me? Do you hear me huh? Do you hear me? If you walk out that door we are done!" Carina turns around to look at me and my heart sinks because I see nothing but pain in those eyes, I used to stare into them wishing I could steal some of their happiness and now they are empty. I did this to her, and I wish I could take it all back. Please my love, fight back! Don't let me push you away. Please just stay.

I wake up gasping for air, almost knocking myself out from how hard I grab at my ears trying to stop myself from hearing the memory play itself out as it did every morning. "I lose you either way, bella. I'd rather lose you and have you be alive." I drop my hands and they catch the first of my tears as those words echo through the lonely rooms we used to call our home.

Great. Flashbacks of my wife leaving me. Just another tick on a long list of reasons my wife made the right choice when she forced me into a looney bin.... a psychiatric hold I have to correct myself. Shaking my head in an attempt to get rid of that phrase. Just thinking of it as a looney bin makes me shiver from Diane's look of disapproval, the first time I used it. Nope, not working. I stumble to the bathroom a little lightheaded from hitting myself in the left ear harder than I meant to.

"I think it's beneath you, and I know it's beneath me" Diane's words slowly start drowning out my wife's goodbye, making it less loud, but never taking it away. Both women's tone of disappointment following me around like a song I can't get out of my head. While I wait for the water to get warm in the shower I go through the new mantras Diane taught me to keep my head out of the clouds.

I look at myself in the mirror and picture my three-year-old self. I smile when I see the cute little girl, who's been helping me heal, look back at me. "You are loved. I love you" She gives a small little smile before transforming into an older version of ourselves. Maybe twelve, I think. She's sitting next to our dad, and I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears, he's so mad. We're on an airplane on our way home from my second track meet ever. I tap the glass to get her attention. "Keep your head out of the clouds Maya, you don't have to wait to be in them before you can rest."

The teen turns her head from the window and her eyes are filled with tears when they land on me. He's going to make me walk home from the airport because I didn't break the state record like I did the previous weekend. I can feel her thoughts more than hear them, and I want to sooth her so bad that I actually hit my hand against the glass in an attempt to rub her back. "Winning isn't everything in life, bella". The term of endearment slipping out before I can catch myself. Damn, I miss my wife.

I get into the steaming shower thinking of my sixteen-year-old self being in this very same position, trying to wash away the shame she felt from her father's resentment because she fell for a girl, who became a distraction and caused her dad to stop loving her. "You don't need his love kid. You will learn to love in this lifetime, no need to push to the finish line to experience it".

You'll also experience getting your heart ripped out because of it, but we're learning to come to terms with losing too. Or so Diane is trying to teach us. I rinse out the conditioner in my hair, naively not wanting my former self to know how badly we screwed up the love we managed to receive in this stupid life. Why did I push Carina away? And I'm crying again. Great.

I'm also weirdly mad at Carina that she took her shampoo and conditioner to the hotel she's been staying at. I accidently washed my hair with it the night after my first session with Diane, and my pillow ended up smelling like her. I was planning on 'accidently' using it again the night she showed up to get some of her things. Now, a week later and I can hardly sense her in this house anymore.

I wish I could just smell her shampoo bottle... And another tick for the clipboard of crazy. Good thing I have another session with Diane scheduled this morning. She might make an exception for using that word to describe the lady sniffing her wife's shampoo bottle.