𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 ↠ 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

chapter 10: good guy vibes

"Peace is the result of retraining your mind to process life as it is, rather than as you think it should be." - Wayne W. Dyer

☆☆☆☆
Song for chapter:

OneRepublic - Feel Again

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MY usual spot next to Austin has become more familiar now. The smell of the freshly placed carpet, the light scent of food from the buffet table, watching the sun go to dark through the glass windows. I've gotten use to this nice comfy chair that sits directly across from Doctor James.

"These grapes are good. Want some?" Austin says while chewing, holding his hand out with four grapes remaining. I take one and place the purple fruit inside my mouth and crunch down with my teeth, releasing the sweet juice that was stored inside it.

"Have any of these people fully recovered yet?" I ask.

"Yes. Usually when they are recovered, they stop coming to the meetings. Some of them decide to stay and continue to share their stories and listen to others," Austin answers.

"Ah," I say, prodding my tongue at a grape skin that got stuck in the back of my tooth.

"Right over there, that's Miss Gale," Austin says, pointing out a woman with his eyes. "She's the one who's mother passed away."

"Yeah, I remember her." Her story was inspiring to say the least. I just wish I could find that inner peace that she now has.

"She's been here since I started coming to the meetings."

"How long have you been coming here?"

"Seventeen, around four months ago."

"Your birthday is in June?" I say, counting backwords since we're in the beginning of October now.

"Yep. I'm a summer baby," he says. "When is your birthday?"

"July," I say. "Summer baby as well." I honestly love my birthday being in the summer. Despite the heat, I love swimming and having barbecues in the backyard. It brings back good memories and not bad ones. "So, Gale still comes here. What about everyone else?"

Austin turns in his seat, looking at some of the people mingling near the large window looking out into the parking lot. I follow Austin's gaze to an older man by the buffet table. "Mr. Raymond has PTSD. He served in the military, losing many friends in war."

I notice Mr. Raymond in a plaid, red and blue sweater, tucked nicely into his blue jeans. His skin is dark, with a clean shaven face and very short dark hair.

"The woman next to him is Ms. Julia," he says, now gazing at the woman possibly in her mid-forties, holding a can of Sprite in her hand while engaged in conversation. "She has schizophrenia, was hospitalized four times throughout her life, resulting in the divorce of her husband. Now she attends these meetings regularly. And right over there by the window, that's Mr. Clint."

I turn around with Austin to a man who is very tan, and brown hair that's past his shoulders. He stands alone with his arms crossed. "He doesn't talk that much. He lost his wife in a car wreck about a year ago. He only talks when Doctor James asks for an update on how he's feeling. As for the rest of them, they have stories about various things that would take two days to explain."

I nod, feeling almost better that I'm not the only one in this world that's suffering.

"You're the latest newbie. We see new comers every other month or so," says Austin.