therapy / e.d

6

"How's your week been, Mia?" Dr Evans asks, wiping the lenses of his glasses.

I lean back on the white chair, my legs pressed against my chest. My anxiety is the worst it's ever been since the nightmare I had after seeing Lisa. I haven't properly slept in days and I have a tremor in my left hand.

"Terrible." I deadpan and stare out the window. I squeeze the stress ball in my right hand as I steady my breathing. "I had a nightmare a few days ago. Ethan's mother came by to visit and it triggered the nightmare."

I look at Dr Evans and see his facial expression shift to surprised at the mention of me saying his name. It's getting easier to say his name nowadays.

"What was the nightmare?" He wonders.

The image of Ethan's lifeless body flashes in my mind. Lisa's screams fill my ears. The sickness in stomach from that day returns.

"I was the one who found his body." I admit, gulping harshly. "I called his mother in the room and she screamed, constantly. I've never heard anyone scream like that."

Dr Evans goes quiet, probably because of how disturbing it is to find a dead body. Not to mention, your boyfriends. I shakily sigh.

"That's the nightmare I get nine times out of ten when I'm asleep." I add.

"That's why you have acute insomnia." He comments and I nod. "You can't stay awake, forever." He says in a straight forward manner and I nod.

"I know." I say, fear striking me. "I've been using the drawing mechanism." I tell him, changing the subject. I do not want to talk about my nightmares for another second.

His eyes widen and he tilts his head in surprise. "How's that been? Has it been working?" He questions.

"Yes. I haven't gotten any intrusive memories. Drawing helps, more than I thought it would." I say with a hint of happiness. Only a hint.

"That's fantastic." He exclaims with a smile.

Seeing him smile makes me upset. I'm upset because it's so hard for me to smile. Even when I want to. I just...can't. Especially thinking of what could have been if he didn't die.

I was so excited that day, before I found him. I was finally ready to tell him I love him. I kick myself every day for not saying it back when he did. I knew I loved him when he said it, I just didn't know it. I didn't know what love was or how to love someone. He was the first person I've ever loved.

"Tell me what you're thinking." Dr Evans insists, picking up on my change in mood. How does he do that?

"I never said it back." I mumble. "I never got to tell him I love him." My left hand shakes and I feel tears build up in my eyes. Dr Evans looks at me sadly.

"I'm sure he knew." He tries to assure me but I shake my head.

"Not enough." I utter.

"Don't torture yourself, Mia. There's nothing you could've said that could've prevented his death." He says.

"You don't know that." I speak harshly and Dr Evans sighs, hesitating slightly before speaking.

"May I ask how he died? Unless you're not comfortable."

My blood runs cold at the question. I hate talking about that.

"He had a heart condition. He had a heart attack in his sleep." I murmur quickly, thinking back to what mom told me. She sat me down when I was close to calm after finding him like that. It was just before his funeral when she told me what happened to him.