The ghost of him

Chapter 11

I'm back again on the brown leather sofa. I'm laying down this time because I'm tired and I have the whole sofa to myself. Dr. Miller had ice tea in the mini-fridge, so I took a bottle. Now it's half-empty, sitting on the table.

"How've you been since our first visit?" he has his legs crossed, like always, and he takes his glasses that are on the eyeglass chain and puts them on. His clipboard is in his hand as well.

"The same," I say as I stare at the ceiling.

"The same? What does that mean?"

Ugh. Therapists. They're like language arts teachers. One simple word or sentence and automatically they think there's a deeper meaning. "I don't know. I'm not depressed if that's what you're asking." isn't that what all therapists do? manipulate you and ask you questions until you say what they want to hear.

"I am not. I am merely asking how you're feeling." he puts his hand over his heart, saying I can trust him.

I don't know what to tell him. If I should just spill and say everything, me seeing Aaron, dad getting a girlfriend, the dream. or if I should keep it vague. "well...I mean...I've been fine. Aaron, my best friend, is gone and I'm learning to live with it. " I shrug my shoulders. I technically didn't lie to him, but I did make it vague.

"Anything else?"

"Not really." In the first session, he was just trying to get to know me. I can go on and on about myself and the things I like. But now he wants to know about my feelings, and I don't share my feelings.

"Rose, I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me." He looks intently at me like he's trying to look inside me.

He's freaking me out. He's really good. "What makes you think that?" I say all shocked. I sit up, intrigued.

"I've been a therapist for 12 years. I know when my patients are being shy and holding back their feelings." he keeps staring at me, waiting for me to crack like an egg. I notice all the wrinkles on his face when he looks at me like that.

"I'm fine, I swear."

"Spill it out."

I cave in. That look he was giving me, I couldn't hold it inside me anymore. "Fine. My dad has a girlfriend. I found out the other day." I pause, then continue. "Don't get me wrong, she's really nice, I just feel like dad is drifting farther apart from mom and me, you know? He's moving on."

"I'm sure that no matter what, your father will always love you," he says, very kindly.

"Yeah. I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this." I say a little annoyed. I came here to cope with Aaron's death. He doesn't need to know anything else. I don't need a therapist, anyway. Sure, I don't mind coming here, but I'm fine. I keep telling Dr. Miller and my mom that, but they don't want to listen.

"I am your therapist. You can tell me anything, whether it's relevant or not. Everything we talk about is between us, patient confidentiality. And my job is to make you happier, and safer. Love yourself. My goal is by the end of our last session, you leave this building with confidence, loving life, and yourself." he smiles at me.

I don't need to love life or myself. As long as I'm not trying to kill myself, I call that a win. Though I will never say that out loud. "I know, but...I don't know. Whatever gets me safe from the looney bin." That's my main goal. Act healthy enough so I don't get sent there.

"No one is sending you there. You're not self-harming, and you don't seem suicidal." He re-assures me.

"Then why am I here?"