30 Days In Rehab

Day 11: Thursday

"Are you ready?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You need to."

"I don't want to."

"You need to let it go."

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"Because it's the last thing of his that I have." I admit, tears read to fall, "Even if it is my grief, I don't want to let it go because it is him in a way..."

"But it hurts you."

"At least I'm feeling it," I defy, "that pain makes all of this real to me. If I didn't feel this pain, then I would probably think that I'm dreaming." Darren sighs and rubs his temple, putting his elbows on knees. When I came into his office this morning, I thought we were going to talk about my day of freedom but I was wrong. the first thing he said was that it was time to stop prancing around my grief and properly address it.

"Stephanie, you're holding a hand full of glass with a tight fist. Why wouldn't you want to let it go?"

"Because that pain, that blood, that adrenaline keeps me close to him. It lets me feel him in my dreams, it lets me see him in my moments of distress; it brings him to me." "It lets you see him? Like in your dreams or in real life?" I let his question hang in the air for a second, knowing that I've said too much.

"Stephanie, are you seeing things?"

Say nothing Stephanie, I think to myself.

"Answer me, are you seeing things? Do you have hallucinations?!"

"It isn't hallucinations if he's there, driving away my guilt." "Oh no, Stephanie!" He sighs and grabs his forehead. "He pulls me out of the darkness that drowns me in my mind. He holds my heart and stops it from beating so fast!" I snap. "He takes away my anxiety and replaces it with stability! For just a second he takes me away from this prison called a rehabilitation center and puts me in a place of comfort where I don't have to think about the next thing we're going to talk about and how much I'm going to cry! He puts me in a place where I don't have to think about how he's gone and never coming back!" I stand, my chair smashing against the ground behind me. "He puts joy back in my life even if it is for a minute or two! So I'm sorry if these hallucinations aren't good but I'm not going to give them up just so I can be written off as cured and lose the last piece of the love of my life that I have!"

"Stephanie, you will find love again, I promise you will!"

"No I won't!" I shout, my fists clenching. I slowly begin moving towards him, "what man will love a woman that has been abused for years?! What man will love a woman who used to show her body for dirty, crumpled dollar bills?! What man will love a woman who has been in a mental institution?! What man will love a woman like me who has done the things that I've done?!"

What man will love a woman that's killed before without hesitation?

"Who, Darren?! Show me who!"

He shakes his head and stands, his hands up, "this is not the end of your road Stephanie." He says calmly. "Isn't it?! Because every day I'm in this ditch pretending that what you're saying and what Dawson's punk ass is saying is making me feel better! The only person who understands me remotely is Tee and guess what, I can't fucking see her! So news flash, Darren! I am not getting and this is the end of my road and I'm going to be stuck in this place for another month, and another month, and another fucking month!" His hands lower at my words, a look of sadness taking over his features. And honestly I can careless. I'm tired of trying to act like my dreams don't taunt me and my demons don't haunt me.