(01) Alexandria

112 16 82
                                    

Natural light streamed in the front arch windows, making me wish I was outside sitting by the shade and drinking lemonade.

Summer was in full swing. It was the second week of January, and people were enjoying what was left of their summer holidays before schools began once again. I longed for it. I longed to be outside enjoying the last of the holidays, and the fact that that longing came from me was surprising. I wasn’t a fan of summer, to put it bluntly, I hated summer. The heat made it unbearable. But given the choice, I would willingly sacrifice being here to be in that insufferable heat.

I could smell the salty sea air and hear the waves as they crashed. Being so close to the beach meant that we could smell and hear what called people to the beach without being there. But the waves crashing weren’t the only things that I could hear.

I could also hear laughter. That was what pulled me to look out the window. The laughter. It was haunting, mesmerising, and pulling me in. It made me wonder when was the last time I laughed so freely. When was the last time I had a full belly laugh? The one that had me aching for hours. These days, I wasn’t into it. The last time I had laughed that hard, I had been high. Which wasn’t shocking since, for the past few months, I had only managed to find enjoyment in something when I was high or drunk. But the laughter that pulled my attention wasn’t the ‘I’m high and can’t stop laughing’ laughter, no. It was an ‘I’m enjoying summer’ laughter.

That was what I should be doing as well. The thought passed through my mind as I released a sigh. I should be enjoying the last of my summer holidays, but instead, here I was staring longingly out the window. I wanted to blame someone, but the only name in mind was mine. I had led myself here. My decisions had led me here, and that was the undiluted truth. The truth I wasn’t ready to swallow, so for peace of mind, I was going to blame my mother.

I closed my eyes. No. I wasn’t going to blame her. She did nothing wrong.

“So,” Victoria said, bringing my attention back to her.

I opened my eyes and turned to her. My mind went back to her question. This is a question I was still trying to find an answer for. My answer meant I was either going to have more of these sessions or less of them. I very much preferred the latter, but it wasn’t my decision to make. The stakes were high, and a part of me was annoyed that they would be placed on one question.

I looked around the room to buy myself time. The light blue colour was calming, to me, at least. There was a pink and blue abstract art that I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to make me feel. Behind Victoria was a white waterfall desk paired with a blue chair placed in front of an arched built-in shelf lit by brass picture lights and matched with a dark grey ladder on rails. And then there was the sitting area where we were sitting, I was on an English roll arm sofa facing Victoria, who was sitting on a grey armchair with a white table separating us.

“Alexandria?” she tried again.

I sighed. I couldn’t put off answering the question any longer.

I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly.” She nodded. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. I want to truly know how you’re feeling.”

Ha! I wasn’t going to tell her what I was feeling. It would be beneficial, but it would also take me down the road I didn’t want to walk. Not yet anyway. Being honest with your psychologist was encouraged, but to me, I said do it if you were also ready to walk down the path it would take you.

“For the first time in a very long time...” I trailed off, anxiety making me second-guess what I was about to say. “I feel great. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not stressed. I feel at peace.”

Between Friends and LoversWhere stories live. Discover now