I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Eleventh Chapter

The next day Patrick forces me back to therapy to talk about my decision. Im stubborn, Im still going to go through with it.

After my next round of therapy Patrick and I go to the park. We sit in the field. I lie in the grass and look into the sky.

"Patrick." I address him. "This... This sky. This sky, we own it. We belong with the sky. Isnt it so pretty."

I can speak with Patrick in my own weird way. He has seen me in therapy anyway, cant get deeper than therapy.

The blue is deep and a couple of clouds float along. The clouds could be replaced with cotton balls shaped like clouds and I wouldnt notice, or care.

"Its out of our reach. We... Will... Never... Have... It."

I dont know why I like the sky so much. Its always been part of me. Maybe we are made from the clouds.

"It cant be ruined... Well... Not quickly anyway."

Patrick lies next to me in the grass. It corners my vision, strands of green framing my view of the clouds.

"We have a little bit before it goes anyway."

Patrick looks from me to the clouds and the sky. He blue green eyes squint at each cloud as he scrutinises it.

"Its wild."

"It sure is." Patrick notes.

The grass tickles my arms and legs but I dont move.

"Maybe we should take a lesson from the sky." I continue. "That we should do what we do best and let others do what they do best. Dont be greedy and steal someone elses talent."

"To shorten it, possibly, the message is to be yourself?" Patrick suggests.

"Well... I guess. What ever you want, you know?"

Patrick hums and looks back to the clouds. Each cloud is unique as it magically hovers. Each, a different shade of white. Each, heavier or lighter than another. Each a wilder and more adventurous shape. I just love the sky.

"How have you survived enduring me for 2 days, now 3?" I ask.

"Wasnt much of a challenge." Patrick shrugs it off.

"Well Im gone tomorrow..."

"We still have to meet up for your therapy sessions."

"Oh. Yeah."

Oh yeah, Im bound to you until I drop my addictions.

"Its not a chore for you, is it?" I ask.

"Quite the opposite, really."

"I should count the days that Im not addicted... That Im clean." I suggest.

"Yeah." Patrick replies.

We appreciate the sky for a while until it starts to get cold. We return back and find Pete eating pizza on the sofa.

"I hope you dont mind, I got pizza and let myself in." Pete grins through a full mouth.

"Yeah yeah sure." Patrick waves him off.

I sit on the sofa quietly as they talk. Day 3. 3 days clean. 3 full days. Day 3.

"Am I in the way? I should be going. I have work tomorrow." I say.

"Are you sure? I can drive you home?" Patrick suggests.

"No, I do fine on my own. My friend may be mildly worried anyway." I chuckle. "Later guys!"

With that, I leave for home.