Like Crashing Waves

Life Starts With Death

Cara

How would you start to tell the story of how you fell, face first, in love - a topic so trivial that up until now remains debatable if it is indeed an emotion, or just a chemical reaction?

How you fell in love with a man who told you that you are indeed someone he knew.

That you are you, but also someone else  in another life.

To be honest, I wouldn't know how to start.

Maybe in short breaths and awkward glances.

Or even in sweaty handshakes and quiet laughter.

We could start with those.

But perhaps it would be fitting if I started in the end.

Let's start with a funeral.

My funeral.

I've dreamt of dying.

No.

Not like committing suicide.
But being killed.

To be specific, I was shot, in the heart.

It was a dream that repeatedly haunted me ever since I was a child.

It should make me feel scared, but instead, I would wake up hollow.

It was as if I'd missed something important.

There's this unexplainable feeling of forgiveness and regret.

Life went on everyday.

I would find myself looking for a face in the crowd. A face I don't even know exists.

And every night I would dream the same dream.

Again and again.

I wished to be rescued.
I'm still waiting.

🌊

"How have you been?"

"I'm okay."

"I read your newest journal entry. It's good that you are finally talking about it."

I sat stiffly on his leather couch, hating the squeaky sound it made when I moved.

"Hm."

"Do you like Journaling? We can change it to something you're more comfortable with, if you want."

I fiddled with my fingertips. They are quiet numb now, from the cold air-conditioning he has.

"It's okay. The words flow more when I write, than when I talk."

"That's good." He crossed his legs and jotted down on his black book. "How are your panic attacks?"

I fixed my eyes on his windows. Rays of sunlight pass through the small spaces of his navy blue curtains, making the dancing dust visible to human eyes.

"Cara?"

"I haven't been having them."

LIES.

"Since when?"

"I don't know."

He laid back into his chair, "Since your last appointment with me?"

I stared at him. He was quiet young and very good looking to be a shrink. But then again he had graduated from college at 16. His file is very interesting.

"Yes."

LIES.

He stared at me for a while, perhaps willing me to tell him the truth.

He knows.

"It's always the same."

"What is, Cara?"

"The dreams."

"Why don't you tell me the story again?"

"I've told you."

He always made me retell it, like some kind of bedtime story.

Only it felt real.

Telling him the dream again is making me both calm and exhausted.

And by the end of every session, I'm left with a feeling of longing I shouldn't even know.

"Haven't you always loved telling stories?"

I stared at him for a while.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and nodded.

"Shall we start from the beginning?"

🌊

"Thank you for coming," Ivan lead me out into the waiting room. "I'll see you back here next week. Same time, yes?"

"Hm."

Ivan took hold of my shoulder and looked me in the eye. "Just continue on with therapy and Journaling. Hobbies will help you take your mind off over thinking and-"

"IVAN!"

A new voice.

A young man came rushing in towards us. Both of them shared a look and shifted their eyes to me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." Smiling, he held out his right hand to me. "I'm Jonathan. Dr. David's brother."

I stared at his hand. He has nice hands.

Looking up at his face, it feels like I should know him.

Perhaps I've seen him.

"Jonathan." Ivan pulled Jonathan's hand down.

Sensing my discomfort, Jonathan took a step back, running his hand through his sand-blonde hair before shoving them to his front jean pocket. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you -"

"I'm Cara."

" - What?"

"Cara. My name's Cara. It's nice to meet you Jonathan."

Jonathan smiled at this.

My heart felt like jumping out of my chest.

Witnessing the exchange, Ivan cleared his throat and tapped Jonathan on his shoulder, leading his brother towards his office.

"Jonathan, let's get inside." Ivan nodded at me and smiled. "Cara."

"Goodbye Dr. David, Jonathan."

I sneaked a look at him again and caught him doing the same.

Jonathan.

What a nice name.

I slipped out of the waiting room and onto street, disappearing into the current of the city.