Thursday (Sequel to 'From Eden')

four

"Why don't you begin with writing her back?" Gloria asked calmly, folding her thin hands in her lap. She sat across from me in the spinning chair again, after the room was cleaned up. I felt my eyes roll back into my head at her suggestion, but she kept going. "You don't have to send it. Just write back, tell...pretend to tell her what you're feeling."

"What's the point if I'm not sending it?" I grumbled, pulling at the sheets of my bed with my fingers. My pillow felt wet from my tears earlier, and I felt the knot in my belly twist.

"Therapy," The other woman said flatly.

"Fuck," I shut my eyes and placed my head in my hands. I knew she was right, and I was tired of fighting her and pissing her off for the day. "Okay, I'll try it. I'll try." My heart leapt at those simple words.

"Thank you," She nodded, writing something down on her pad of paper. "I'm sure you'll find it isn't as bad as you think it is, and that it's quite healing."

I couldn't speak, so I just nodded.

"How about you take the day off from any groups tonight, and try and write instead?" She started to pack up her things. "I would encourage you to eat lunch and dinner with your friends, though."

Before Gloria left, I got myself up and changed in the bathroom, then set up at my little desk with a couple blank sheets of paper and a pen. I was wished luck by the shrink and she left me there, alone with my thoughts.

This was so ridiculous. I was chewing on the tip of the pen, trying my best to think of what I would even say first in such a letter. My heart thumped erratically in my chest like I was actually talking to Chloe face to face, and I shook my head. So stupid! It's just a blank sheet of paper!

I wrote and crossed shit out for what seemed like hours. I crumpled up the first two papers into balls in frustration, and began crying when I got a paragraph down on the third. My tears fell onto the paper and made it damp, so I leaned back and slammed the pen down.

After a quick break and some breathing exercises, I straightened back up and tried to look at the situation from a logical perspective. I was determined to do this at this point in the day, since everything else Gloria and Jackson taught me in rehab so far has worked. I think if this happened in September, I would have absoutely lost it...but now, I was stronger. Even if I didn't feel strong, I was stronger. I made it through the hardest months of my life, and they were real and in my face like nothing I've ever experienced. This...this was just pretend, and Chloe wouldn't hear anything I would say in this letter. Pretend, Paige.

Another hour later, I came up with something decent. It was rude, and made me cry again to write, but I did it. I even made a point to answer the questions she asked me in her letter about rehab, in the most passive aggressive way possible.

Although it took me forever, it felt good to be able to present something meaningful and helpful to Gloria after the terrible day I had. And, admittedly, it did feel good to write down my feelings and everything I wanted to say to Chloe.

I forced myself to leave the room with the letter in hand, and once I reached Gloria's on-site office, she was perfectly just finishing up with another patient. I handed her the letter shakily, sitting down with my legs crossed. I could feel the troubled look on my face as she unfolded the paper and read what I wrote. It read:

Chloe,

It's crazy I'm even trying to write to you right now. Honestly, I don't even want to write down your name at the top of this paper, so I'll save it for the end, when all of my heart is emptied and all these emotions finally belong to you.