Powder [phan]

XXIX

Dan's POV (one year later)

"Then you're free to go, Mr. Howell." The psychologist grinned at me and I smiled too.

I felt better than I had in a long time. As good and healthy as I hadn't seen in years. Every breath felt good and fresh blood flowed in my veins. It was pure, my body was no longer poisoned. My head was clear.

I couldn't remember the last time I could think so clearly, see so clearly. And it got better every day.

I started exercising in the clinic, was as fit as probably never before in my life. Started eathing healthy, go to sleep at reasonable times, and woke up early and relaxed.

The daily routine here had done me so good that I was actually a little afraid to leave. I was afraid of losing it as soon as I had to take care of my life on my own again. But as I was told, that was normal. And it obviously wasn't bad if you actually slipped back into an everyday life that wasn't quite as healthy. It was human and none of us was perfect, the most important thing was that I changed my mindset.

I had been here for a year and of course that inevitably hadn't just changed me physically. At the beginning I had a therapy session every day and fuck yes, it had annoyed me so much that I would have preferred to leave after two days.

I had been prepared to open up, as I had to do with outpatient treatment at the time, but the drilling here was so deep and relentless, day after day, that I sensed that the collapse would not last long would be kept waiting.

And it came.

It came when I told about Phil.

About my friendship with him. From what we had built up together with Oliver. How we had fulfilled our dream together, were inseparable, thought the same, felt the same. Can communicate without speaking to each other.

How we should be overjoyed, but I never was.

How I always wanted more. Always needed the kick. I could never build on human relationships, but always sought refuge in things that couldn't disappoint me.

And then I fell head over heels in love with Phil.

It had overwhelmed me, engulfed me, and the feelings for him had been so violent and uncontrollable that I couldn't help but run away from it.

And then, when I had come to a standstill and finally felt ready to face them, I had landed here. In this clinic, way too far away from him. And all of a sudden, it caught up with me and I lost the certainty that I could ever free myself from that guilt.

Would I ever become a person you could depend on? A person who gave others more than he asked for? Who could give someone the feeling of security, of trust, on both sides? Would I ever really be able to have a stable relationship?

Even before the Phil story I didn't believe that I deserved any form of love. How could I? After having hurt the person I wanted most to be happy? Didn't I deserve even less now to experience all that?

I never wanted a relationship back then. My freedom, in which I could lead this self-willed life, always put above everything else. But after a few days here, during which I forced myself to engage in therapy, I realized more than ever before that exactly what I had avoided before was now all I wanted.

At that time I had thought to be loved was dangerous, but here I was broken and I understood that this was the only thing I needed and that it could save me.

It was so important for me to learn to love someone with full devotion, without always keeping a part of me for myself that I was guarding, like a biting, rabid dog that would attack anyone who came too close. Mauled everyone and left nothing of the person who tried to discover that hidden part. Just like I had done with Phil.