Heathens-Joshler

13

 I talk to Dr Sorenson a lot. I talk to her every day, actually. And as the days go by, I figure out where everything fits in my head. It's a slow and painful process, but it's worth it. I'm getting better.

I'm finally let out to go eat lunch in the dining hall with everyone else. I don't see Josh, but that's okay. He doesn't aways eat there anyways.

I still see Josh around as I work through this, as I battle demons and try to come out as unscathed and strong as possible. I just see him less. I need to focus on myself anyways, so it's okay.

I do mention to Dr. Sorenson that I'm seeing Josh around less, and that I miss him.

She bites her lip. "How long has it been since you've seen him, Tyler?" She asks.

I ponder this for a moment. I understand the passing of time now. "About a week, maybe a week and a half." I say.

"Is there anything else significant about that week and a half?" She asks.

I mull this over. "Well I feel like I've made some pretty significant progress with my mental health." I say.

Dr. Sorenson looks at me, waiting.

I feel something get darker and sadder inside, like a grey cloud has rolled in. "He isn't real, is he?" I ask in a whisper.

Dr. Sorenson sighs sadly. "It's very good that you've come to terms with this, Tyler. It means we're making a lot of progress. You'll probably be let out soon."

I feel like crying, but not crying hard. Crying softly and sadly. I should have known he was too good to be true. "I guess I was lonely." I say. "So I made up a friend to keep me company, to help me understand my feelings, and eventually help me come to terms with this. I guess he disappeared when I didn't need him anymore." I know this is a lie, though. I do need him still. He just left when I was sane enough to realize that he wasn't real.

I'd known for the past week or so. But I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to admit that the one person I loved, the one person who loved me, wasn't real. He was just a boy who lived in my head and helped me through this, held my hand through this. And then, he let go. And I looked next to me, where he should have been, into my hand, where his should have been. And there was nothing there.

Tears slip from my eyes. I realize that he was never real. The boy who took an interest in me when no one else would didn't exist. The boy who I addressed my suicide note to. Who made me feel wanted and needed. Who cried at my bedside. Who told me he was happy I was alive. Who held me and kissed me and played music for me. The boy I sang to, held hands with, and loved more than anyone else in the world. Nothing. No one. All crumbled away.

I wipe tears away from my face. "He felt so real." I tell Dr. Sorenson.

She squeezes my shoulder, trying to be comforting. "I know, Tyler. I know. But, even if it doesn't feel like it right now, this is a good thing. You've finally realized this too, that he isn't real, and that means you're mentally healthy. It means you're getting better."

It doesn't feel like getting better. It feels like the world crumbling down around me. It feels like his beautiful face fading to black. It feels like my heart will never be whole again.