Speak to Me

I Want to Change

The weeks kept passing by and fall arrived sooner than I imagined. I had much less work with the kids. Sharing the bed with Byron became rare. He knew I was unhappy and seemingly he was depressed by this whole thing too but none of us could just end it all. Nine years still meant nine years after all. Until I met Emily I hadn't realize how much I suppressed, how much I changed, how much I wanted to be good enough for Byron.

Speaking of Emily, she kept coming with me to work. She liked it and sometimes the kids listened to her more than to me. She even convinced me to work out with Juan and get in shape. We usually spent mornings together as some kind of friends, I had individual sessions with her once a week and we had great conversations, as long as we could call those things conversations. I could partly open up to her but she asked me not to push her, and I didn't. She hadn't told anything about why she decided to go mute.

On a Friday evening when we finished working and it was time for her weekly session I routinely opened the door and sat on the edge of her bed, patiently waiting until she kept looking for some music. I knew something was not completely okay when a song started but the girl didn't turn to me. She kept her head down and she was just standing in front of her laptop. I started to get worried and I stood up but by that time she turned to me, her eyes were filled with tears and this pushed the panic button in my head. I stepped closer but she put her hands up defensively and grabbed her notepad.

"I think I'm ready to open up..."

"I'm listening then." I sat back and she gave me a look "You know what I mean."

"I'll be left alone soon, right? Have you thought about it?"

"No." I shook my head "Emily, you're a great person, you won't be alone, trust me."

"I just need to know. What do you think? Are we making progress?"

"Definitely. You're opening up, it's good."

"So once I start talking all what we have now we'll be over."

I hesitated. She looked straight into my eyes. I took a deep breath.

"I'm not leaving you." I said.

"Not the first time I hear this. First, it was her." she pointed at an old picture.

She was significantly younger and she was posing with a redhead girl. She seemed to be so happy.

"Best friend number one?" she nodded.

"Maya. I guess I knew her all of my life. We grew up together. I was the cool rebel and she was my shy sidekick who didn't leave my side, not for a second. Not much after my dad died she told me they're moving. New York is technically at the other side of the world."

"How angry were you? Rather disappointed?"

"I can't even describe that. It's not just that. We had a pretty bad fight on the day they left. I wanted her to stay, I had no one else but her. She couldn't convince her parents and I accused her she didn't try hard enough. I wanted to contact her loads of times, I was just afraid, I guess. Not that she looked for me. I was left alone with my grief."

"So best friend number two came along?"

"Just in time." she nodded and pointed at another picture.

It must have been taken not much before. The black-haired girl who was standing next to her on the picture had a very strong aura.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well..." she sat next to me.

She didn't look at me as she pulled up her sweater's sleeves, revealing her scars. She brushed off her face. I hadn't realized up until that point she used different types of self-harm, besides the "solid" ways, alcohol and cigarettes. I sighed and decided to reveal my scars as well.