therapy / e.d

9

I trail my hand over the drawer which consists of all the pictures of Ethan and I that I stuffed in carelessly the day I came home.

Should I look at them again? Do I want to do that to myself? I groan. No I don't.

I stand up straight and stare out my window, looking out my front yard. The sun blazes into my room. Summer is finally here. It's June.

Oh god. It's his one year in a few weeks. I shiver from fear and sit back on my bed.

I peer at my pin board, the descriptions from therapy staring back at me. I want to be that person again. I hate this constant lonely, dark feeling that looms over me like a rain cloud.

My hand reaches over my bedside table and I retrieve the number that was given to me over two weeks ago. I don't want to be alone. I stare at the digits momentarily before dropping the paper back on the table.

I walk over to my tallboy and grab my abandoned phone which has a thin layer of dust over it. I ditched it as soon as I came back, with no intention of calling or texting anyone. I wanted to be alone and I certainly did not want check ups from Natalie.

Oh my god. Natalie!

How could I have been so selfish to not even contact her at all? I would be lying if I said I didn't miss her.

She only called mom to hep me and I didn't even say goodbye to her. If it wasn't for her, I'd still be having nightmares and toxic thoughts.

Natalie is pretty much my only friend now. She knows all there really is to know about me. I've told her about Ethan but I only revealed his death when I had my first nightmare. I lied to her at the start, telling her my boyfriend was still living in Jersey without saying he was actually gone. I was in denial back then, and sometimes I still am.

That was when she became overly concerned and worried about my mental health. Her sympathy and pity suffocated me, proving my point of why I didn't want to tell her the truth about Ethan in the first place. I didn't want any sympathy or pity. I wanted to move on but that completely back fired on me.

I sigh, plugging my phone into the charger. After about ten minutes, the phone lights up and over thirty messages and twenty missed calls come up in my notifications. All from Natalie.

Feeling incredibly bad, I ring her straight away, preparing for her freakout.

"Mia! Oh my god, where the hell have you been? It's been a month and I've been so worried. Did you not bother to even text me or leave me a note? I came back to the dorm and half your things were gone!" She exclaims as soon as she answers and I feel extremely guilty.

"I'm sorry. I meant to... my head was not in the right place and-"

"God, I had to go to the campus office to find out where the hell you went since you didn't answer any of my calls or texts!" She blares into the speaker. "They said you went back home!"

"Natalie, I'm sorry." I apologise to her and eventually she calms down.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" She immediately asks. I sigh sadly.

"I'm fine. How have you been?" I quickly ask, wondering what she's been up to and change the subject. But she ignores my question.

"What happened? You just left. Campus told me your left with your mom."

"After you called her, she came to campus to take me home."

"She cares about you a lot, you know. She was so worried when I called her." She gushes in a quiet manner.