Rehab -Rihanna
I Got So High That I Saw Jesus - Noah Cyrus
Gone- Bebe Rhexa
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February 14, 2017
I don't understand Valentine's Day. The holiday of love seems like a shitty reason to do something special for your significant other. Valentine's Day is just a Hallmark holiday used to sell cards and gifts to make people feel like they're important. You should be doing nice things for your partner every day, not just for one day a year. You should always make the person you love feel special, not only one time when society says you're supposed to.
Love shouldn't be an obligation. The large flower displays and the red and pink heart chocolate boxes at every store scream desperation. When I saw them in the grocery store weeks before February, I couldn't help but sigh and be filled with dread that the "holiday" is coming around the corner. I just wanted to do my grocery shopping in peace, but I had to look at the red and pink colors the whole time because they were displayed over the damn store. I wanted to vomit all over the frilly decadent boxes of chocolate by the check out registers. It's like they're trying to make you feel guilty.
Even the hopeless, cliché romantic inside me doesn't like the holiday of love. Love shouldn't be reserved for one day of the year. It's special when you find that one person who completes you, so your love should be celebrated all 365 days.
True love doesn't come around every day and when it does, it's the most infinite feeling you want to hold on to. You want to hold it so tight to your chest and never let it go.
I don't think I ever saw Jonathan and Sylvia celebrate February 14th. If they did, I was too young to remember. Johnathan would bring Sylvia flowers on her birthday, but I can't remember any other time where they showed an ounce of love for each other. Their marriage seemed so platonic. They rarely kissed in front of me and I hardly saw them hold hands, even at home. It was rare to see them act affectionate towards each other. Maybe that's why I read so many romance novels. I was trying to understand the concept of love because I didn't have a real example of it in front of me.
I never knew what it truly felt like to love and receive love from another person. I was completely clueless. I was very naive to think that true love would be like the romance novels I ate up with my eyes. I hoped that fiction would be close to reality, but it wasn't even close. What a hard lesson I was forced to learn.
It's why I'm single.
I fucked up when it came to love, but it wasn't only me to blame. Love fucked me over too. It was ruthless, destroying everything good in my life. Maybe it did me a favor. If things were really good, then they wouldn't have been easily destroyed in the first place, right? Love tore my heart to shreds and I have been spending time trying to piece myself back together.
So much happened in the span of almost 6 months. It truly amazes me how fast life changes direction. I always thought I would be on a straight, narrow path towards my future. But I ended up taking a wrong turn. I got lost in the winding paths and forks in the roads. I made wrong decisions and ended up on a side road, taking the longer route but slowly working to getting back onto the right path. I'm walking without a gps, moving forward in what I feel is the right way to go. I keep my eyes to the skyline, desperately wanting to get to my destination, but not forcing myself to rush. I'm going at my own pace now.
Healing takes time.
There is no time limit on how quick you should heal. Everyone's traumas are different. We all have different goals and dreams. We perceive experiences and situations differently. I used to plan and think everything out. I would make lists and set reminders, organizing my entire life out. I hated venturing away from my well-thought schedule. I liked having so much control over my life. It made me feel better about myself when I had everything planned to a tee. I think I liked the control so much because I wanted to please everyone. I didn't want to upset other people so I made sure I did the same things everyday so I have less of a chance to disappoint someone.
I think that's where a lot of my issues lie, the notion to always please everyone and keep myself on a tight leash. I strangled myself everyday because I always wanted to do more, but couldn't. The hand holding the leash wouldn't let me away. Every day it seemed like different hands would alternate holding me down: Jonathan or Sylvia, and myself. I would keep myself tied, my hands clenching around my throat choking me from the fear instilled by my painful childhood. The fear of making mistakes and not pleasing everyone. I was always gasping for air.
That's my trauma. It's my own monsterâthe demon that breathes over my shoulder. It whispers in my ear, trying to get me to make the wrong decision. But what he doesn't realize is that I have lessons learned. So now I ignore his whispers and focus on what I feel in my soul. I've started to search through my soul to find the person I really am. I've started thinking of new dreams and I've been working on not putting as much pressure on myself to heal in a certain amount of time.
After my last night with Tre, I initially felt like I was going to be alright. He gave me my dream of dancing in the rain. He held and kissed me so hard, I could still feel the aftershocks when we departed.
We were both freezing and shaking from the cold rain. Through my trembling lips, I reminded him that he needed to go to the hospital and check his stitches since they got wet. I could barely hold my body still from how cold I was and I knew we only had a few more minutes before we would start getting hypothermia or pneumonia.
It was so hard to say goodbye to him.
I didn't cry, but my heart did. My soul was sobbing as he left one last kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes, memorizing the way he feels so I can always remember.
"I love you, Evangeline," he told me, rubbing his forehead against mine.
My heart did somersaults when he told me he loved me. It was like I would never get tired of hearing it come from his lips. I wish I had more time to hear it.
"I love you, Trevenate."
It stung knowing that was the last time I'll get to say those words. Just because something is right to do, it doesn't mean it's still not going to hurt.
"Goodbye."
That one hurt like a bitch.
We both walked away, me going to one of the remaining officers at the scene and him walking out of the docks. As I went to the officer, I looked at Tre's back, watching him walk away and not look back. I sighed at his retreating form, feeling numb physically and emotionally. Tre turned right next to the third building and then disappeared from my view.
When I got to the officer, I asked him if he could drive me back to campus. On the ride back, I rested my head against the car window, feeling exhausted and drained. It was weird going back to the dorm where everything there was what it usually was. It felt strange walking back into a normal environment, like you have to adjust going back into the calm after the storm.
I slowly made my way up to the floor. My body was relieved to finally feel a lot of warmth running through it. I was getting feeling back in my body, but my mind was elsewhere. It had hit me after Tre left, the shock. My brain was complete mush. It would take me a while to mentally process everything that happened.
My door was cracked open when I came to it and I pushed it open, revealing a different kind of chaos. Sam was pacing in the middle of the room, her hair was messy from running her fingers through it and her face was wet with tears. Reina was sat on my bed bitting her nails, her face red and also showing tears.
When the door opened, both of their heads turned towards me. Reina's eyes widened at my fragile soaked state and Sam sniffled.
"Is it really true?" Sam asked, her eyes red and shiny with tears.
If I didn't think my heart was broken yet, it was at that moment as I saw Sam break down. I didn't even have to answer her, my face revealed everything she needed to know. When she saw the somber look in my eyes and my bottom lip quivering, she knew what the real answer was.
She let out a sharp gasp and then closed her eyes, one hand covering over her heart and the other hand covering her mouth. She bent down, sobs wracking through her body. I quickly took my heavy wet coat off and then went to her, holding onto her body as she collapsed to the ground. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me, her arms tightly wrapped around my torso.
"I'm so sorry Sam," I softly said to her though her loud weeps.
A blanket was draped over us and I looked up at Reina who was kneeling beside us. Tears silently streamed down her cheeks. She sniffled, wrapping her arms around us as Sam sobbed and wailed for her lost love.
Reina and I cried silently while Sam's cries echoed off the walls. They penetrated my heart and murdered it. Hearing Sam's heart shattering and witnessing the loss of the world in her eyes, I knew it would forever haunt me. I knew I wouldn't be able to forget seeing the light drain from her eyes and her sobs that bled in my ears.
After a half hour of sitting on the floor holding Sam while she grieved, she eventually grew quiet. Her sobs turned to helpless whimpers. Reina and I got her to drink some water so she won't be dehydrated from all of her crying. We then managed to get her trembling form up to her bed. We could tell that Sam had tired herself out so we helped her get into bed.
"Eva," she whispered as I leaned over to place the comforter on her.
I paused and looked down at her sad eyes.
"Everything will be okay, right?" New tears shined in her eyes as she asked me this, completely obliterating what was left of my heart.
I had to bite my lip to keep it from wobbling. I nodded and shakily whispered to her. "Yeah, we'll be okay."
I blinked away the tears forming and she gave me a knowing look, like we both know that things will not be okay for a while but we're still going to say it anyways. Like before, maybe if we say it enough times it'll actually happen.
As I finally got out of my cold, damp clothes, I heard Sam sniffle some more. I could tell she was trying to not cry loudly. I acted like I didn't hear her so she can do some of her grieving alone. When I finished changing, Sam wasn't crying anymore. She had cried herself to sleep.
When I had taken my ruined jeans off, I took out my phone that I had shoved in the front pocket and saw how many missed calls and texts from Sam and Reina. I never even felt my phone buzzing. I'm surprised my phone still worked from how soaked my clothes had gotten.
With my warm clothes on, I went to Reina's room to talk with her. She was sitting on her bed, looking out the window and blotting her eyes with a tissue in one hand. I sat across from her and noticed her other hand resting in her lap. She was holding a white candle. The single flame in the jar casted a glow and smelled floral.
"Remember two months ago when Trell told all of us his favorite color was white and we thought he crazy for saying that?" She sniffled and looked down at the burning candle.
I had to chuckle at that memory. The five of us were sitting in the apartment one early evening, talking and listening to music. We were talking about the most random things and we had gotten on the subject of favorite colors.
Four of us said the usual colorsâgreen, purple, orange, and pink. But Trell had said white, surprising us all. We jokingly teased him about his very original choice and he just rolled his eyes, allowing us to make jokes before giving us an explanation.
He liked white because it was pure. It wasn't tainted by anything. White contains every color. It has mixes of dark and light and still appears as innocent and pure. White symbolizes peace and healing. It brings protection and clarity. It's unified in all colors and it shows spiritual strength.
White represents purity in all forms, cleansing the world for truth and honesty. It's like creating a new beginning without fear.
Once he said those words, I understood him more and why he was always such a sweet soul. Trell was totally, one hundred thousand percent a sweetheart. His intentions were good, his smile was kind, his eyes were comforting, and his words were resonating. He had an honest heart that should've been able to live longer.
"He was a pure soul," I mumbled. "I'll always remember that about him."
"He's finally free." She sat the candle on the windowsill and looked at the condensation covering the window.
I lifted my hand up to the window and drew a small heart with my finger. Reina also pressed her finger to the condensation and then brought her hand back down to her lap, revealing what symbol she drew next to mine.
A peace sign.
Heart and peace. Both were things that encompassed all that Trell was.
"I'm worried about Sam," I admitted to her. "I don't know what to say to her to make her feel better."
"There's not much you can do or say. We just have to be there for her. Supporting her and keeping her afloat."
We all have to keep our heads above the water, treading until we can get back safely to the shore.
"How are you though?" Reina asked and I frowned at her.
"I'm fine," I shrugged and brushed her question off. "Helping Sam's more important right now."
"You're not fine, Eva," she replied. "When Sam got a call from the DPD about Trell's body being found and the 911 call you made, we were so worried. We were going crazy trying to reach you but you didn't answer. They told us to stay here and wait because it was too dangerous. I've never been more scared in my life and I can't imagine how it was for you out there."
"You have no idea," I shook my head and bit my lip, still reeling from the shock of what I experienced and witnessed.
"So it's okay to not be okay," she reminded me, grabbing my hand and gently squeezing it. "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to feel sad."
I let out a shaky breath and kept shaking my head. "I thought I was fine. I thought I was gonna be okay not having Tre in my life anymore." I paused. "But even though I know it's the right thing to do, it hurts so fucking much."
I bent my down and let a few tears fall. Reina put her around my shoulders and hugged me. I buried my face in her shoulder.
"I'm not fine," I cried to her, finally admitting it.
"We'll figure it out okay," she said to me and I nodded silently.
I felt my walls crumbling down and I didn't make any move to try and put them back up. I was tired. I wasn't ready to be strong again yet. This was the time I needed to remain open and vulnerable, so I can eventually move forward.
We all grieved in our own ways. After that night, the three of us mourned separately but together. We each had our own way of dealing with the grief, but we made sure that we were still a supportive unit. Reina and I stayed until that Sunday to leave for Chicago. I had told Sam that I could stay here so I could be closer to her in Troy, but she told me that she wanted me to go with Reina. In her words, I needed to get out of Detroit and go to Chicago. She assured us that she would be fine since she'll be with her family, but I couldn't help but still worry about her.
Copper had driven down to pick us up and I admit that it was nice to see him again after all this time. He was always nice and I smiled once I saw Reina tackle him into a hug when he got out of his car.
Even though we were only going to be gone for a few weeks, it was still hard to say goodbye to Sam. As I hugged her one final time before getting in the car, I promised that I would call her everyday.
The drive to Chicago was long. I rested for the first two hours and then the last two hours were spent catching up with Cooper and listening to the radio. As we got closer to Chicago, snow was already on the ground. The sky was filled with small white flurries blowing sporadically and it brought a smile to my face. I always loved watching the snow fall.
Reina's family lived in Oak Lawn, a decently wealthy suburb of Chicago. Her parents lived in a big two story house with a long driveway and a garden off to the side. The house was big, but it seemed very homey. Reina's mom, Amy, greeted us as we got to the front door with our bags. She immediately pulled me in for a hug and welcomed me to Chicago. When I called her Mrs. Cunningham while thanking her for allowing me to stay, she told me to call her Amy. She had a big, bubbly smile and I could see where Reina got her spunkiness from.
I met her little brother next. Lathan was a shy eleven year old who liked to play video games. At dinner that evening, I finally met her dad, Paul, who was an information systems manager. Amy was a nurse anesthetist and I understood then why Reina wanted to go into nursing. It runs in her family. Eating dinner with the four of them and Cooper was an experience I never had before. I never had a family dinner that was so pleasant and uplifting. Even though I had just met most of them that day, I already felt like I was apart of their little family.
Throughout the first two weeks of break, Reina and I would go to downtown Chicago and walk around, looking into different shops and markets. Cooper accompanied us for a lot of our outings and it was fun getting to know him more. Cooper was from Evergreen Park, a neighboring suburb to Reina's. It was funny how they always lived so close to each other all their lives but never met until our university. One night they took me to Navy Pier to see the Winter Wonderfest and another night we visited Millennium Park to see the Bean and the gigantic Christmas tree that lit up the city. Like Reina had previously told me, Chicago was beautiful in the winter with all of the Christmas lights strung around the downtown area.
We would eat out at delicious restaurants and I was in such awe at this bustling city. There were so many people from all different parts of life and it was interesting to see what the city life is like. After living in a small town most of your life, going to a populated city like Chicago is a big adjustment.
I kept my promise to Sam and we talked every single day. Me and Reina would tell her about our daily activities and she would tell us about what she was up to with her family in Troy. The first week we talked, I could tell she was still heartbroken, but by the second week, she started to look more like her usual self. She smiled more and was slowly starting to get some of the light back in her eyes.
She told us there was going to be a funeral for Trell after Christmas and Reina and I both said that we wouldn't miss it for the world.
When Christmas came along, I met Reina's extended family, which consisted of Scottish and German cultures. I was able to try a few dishes that were from their respective cultures and I learned that they opened most of their presents on Christmas Eve. We played a big game of charades and Christmas karaoke, which had me laughing until my stomach hurt. Overall, the holiday was a great time. I felt awkward at first, but as the day went on, I only felt welcomed by every family member. They had gotten me a couple of gifts, which I wasn't expecting. I had also bought a couple of housewarming gifts for Reina's parents to show my appreciate for them welcoming me into their holiday traditions.
It's surreal how quickly I felt at home with them. I felt so much love in a room full of people I had just met. It almost made me want to cry for how happy and considered I felt.
Two days after the holiday was over, Reina, Cooper, and I drove back to Detroit for the funeral. It was only a small gathering, with Trell's immediate family, Sam's family, and a few friends. It was a clear, sunny day and the weather was surpassingly warm for wintertime. I had worn a quarter sleeve black dress that went to above my knees and my black heels. Before we got to the funeral, we stopped to get some bouquets of flowers.
I had picked out white roses.
When we got to the cemetery where the funeral was, there was a white tent set up near the dark brown casket. They decided to have a closed casket. I think it was better that way so we could remember Trell for who he was and what we remembered him as. I don't think I could've handled seeing him lifeless.
Sam was who I had seen first once we walked over to where the tent was. She hugged me tightly. I missed her, seeing each other through the phone just isn't the same as in person.
She then introduced me to her family. I wished I was able to meet them under different circumstances, but her family seemed like good people. She also introduced me to Trell's family members. I talked briefly with his siblings and as we were talking, one of his sisters moved behind me. I turned to look and saw who she was hugging.
Tre rubbed his hand comfortingly on her back as he hugged her and muttered some words to her. He looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with me.
It felt strange seeing him again after not seeing him for weeks. I think we both looked the same but different to each other.
His eyes looked tired and his mouth was set in a frown. He was wearing a black suit jacket with a white shirt underneath. The top two buttons of the shirt were undone and his black slacks were fitted, trailing into shiny black dress shoes.
I hadn't thought about Tre a lot over the break. There was so much going on that I didn't really have time to think about it during the day. At night though, when my body was relaxed and ready to sleep, my mind would wander and drift back to Detroit. The first few nights I let a couple tears drip onto the pillow as I internally grieved for what I didn't have anymore. I missed Tre. My heart and body ached for him. I wondered what he was doing and if he was alright. As I looked at the moon and the twinkling stars, I wondered if he was also looking at them too and thinking about me.
I think this honestly had felt worse than before, because this time, we knew it was what we needed. We didn't want to separate, but we needed to. Why do the right things sometimes feel more painful?
I softly smiled at Tre as he made his way over to where we were standing. I watched him as he greeted Trell's siblings and then Reina and Cooper.
"Hi," I said breathlessly to him as he stood in front of me.
"Hi." His eyes softened at me and the corners of his mouth slightly turned up.
"How are you?" I wanted to ask more questions but it was not the right time to.
"I'm alright," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," I nodded, clutching my bouquet tighter in my hand.
"Good," he mumbled, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
The aura around Tre had always been intense, but in that moment, it felt like torture. Our connection was magnetic. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to him. But I couldn't have him. Not anymore.
I cleared my throat to avoid the awkwardness that was brewing and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
Thankfully the funeral progressed a couple of minutes later and I was sat next to Reina. She had handed me a couple of tissues when we sat down and I kept them folded on my lap. The minister delivered an opening prayer and then read Psalm 46.
God is our hope and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the hills be carried into the midst of the sea;
Though the waters thereof rage and swell, and though the mountains shake at the tempest of the same.
There is a river, the streams whereof make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacle of the Most Highest.
God is in the midst of her, therefore shall she not be removed; God shall help her, and that right early.
Be still then, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, and I will be exalted in the earth.
The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.
After the scripture, one of Trell's brothers said a few words. Then Sam spoke the eulogy.
"Thank you all for being here with us today. Latrell was a light in all of our lives. I first met him when we were in high school. We met at my high school's football game and my first impression of him was that he was a very nice, but quiet guy. After meeting him the first time, I knew that he would change my life. It was so easy to fall in love with him.
Latrell had a kind heart and a tender soul. He was a strong and honest man. He cared so much for everyone he loved and he would always put others before himself. He just wanted the best for all of us. And he will always be with us.
He loved life and would want us to celebrate his life, not mourn him. So that's what we will do. We will always have the memories of his smile and laugh. We will always remember the incredibly sweet, kind man that he was. Forever he will live inside our hearts where he has found his true peace."
Sam did not shed any tears while delivering her eulogy. She spoke strong and unwavering. It made me tear up seeing her inner strength come out. I admired her strength and ability to keep moving forward even though her heart was broken.
Once the service was over, everyone stood up to where the casket was going to be lowered into the grave. One by one, each person went up to the casket to say their final goodbyes. I watched Sam lay down a white lily and a Polaroid picture of them.
I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. My hands were clammy holding the bouquet. It felt unreal to say goodbye to Trell. I felt a pang in my heart as I watched Tre slowly walk to the casket to lay a white rose down. The expression on his face was unreadable, stoic of any emotion.
I met his eyes as I laid down my white roses. I felt my eyes burn and a lump form in my throat. I don't know what was a worse scenario with him, seeing all of the emotion in his eyes or not seeing any emotion at all. I hated to see him in the latter like he was at that moment.
I worried about him. Tre had to watch as another person he loved got buried while his one true love was close yet so far from him. He didn't have anyone anymore and I desperately wanted to remedy that. I longed to have him back, but I knew that he wouldn't take me. It wasn't right, we couldn't be together. I had to push down my aching desperation and ignored the way my heart still yearned for him.
After that day of the funeral, life seemed to continue on. We went back to Chicago and the following weeks were spent exploring the city. Sam ended up visiting us a week after the funeral. It was so much fun to have her be there with us while we made some new memories together. It was good for all of us to get away and focus on something else besides what we had left in Detroit.
The winter break seemed to go by fast and before I knew it, the next semester started. I was anxious to get back. I was looking forward to my classes, but I knew that things this time would be so different. After everything, it's surreal to go on with your life like nothing ever happened. Life just goes on. Time doesn't stop.
This semester, I started working more at the library and I had received another scholarship I applied for late last semester. My classes are a full load, but I like staying busy. Being busy meant I didn't have to overthink about things I didn't need to be thinking about.
We are all pretty busy. Reina and Cooper are always doing work for their nursing classes and Sam has been spending more time at the art studio. During the week we don't hang out as much since we're all doing our own things, but the weekends are when we really spend time together. We already were a close-knit group, but now it feels like we're even closer. Going through hard times together made our bond stronger. We all seemed to be slowly but surely moving forward.
I have started journaling. Reina was the one who told me that it would be good for me to write down my feelings. Even if I never did anything with what I wrote, it was good for me to release all of my thoughts. So I bought a journal and started writing down my daily thoughts and feelings. I think it has helped me a lot in my healing so far. I never go a day without writing something, even if it's only a short sentence. I made it a habit to always write down something that's on my mind.
Sometimes I write about my childhood and how sorry I am for my younger self that she didn't get to grow up the way she should have. I write about dreams or random thoughts I've had. I also write about Tre and how much I miss him. Sometimes he's in my dreams and other times I just remember one of the memories we shared. When I sit in my new classes, I wish that he shared one with me just so I could see him again.
I haven't seen Tre since the funeral. He's never on campus and I haven't seen him anywhere else. It's like he completely disappeared from the world. I've seen no indication that he's even been on campus. Sometimes I walk in the direction of his apartment, even though I don't have a reason to walk that way off campus. I hope that I could catch a glimpse of him somewhere around there, but I haven't seen anything yet.
I've asked Sam about him, but she said she hasn't spoken to him much since the funeral. A couple of days after the funeral, she had sent him a text asking how he was doing and he replied back that he was going to be okay and he just needed time. She hasn't heard from him since then. That was two months ago.
I still wonder about him and where he is. I hope he's doing okay. I know Tre is strong, but I worry about him.
He's my ghost. Sometimes I can still feel him, but I can't see him. He's in my dreams and my thoughts, but nowhere around me. I try not to think about him a lot because it hurts too much, but I can't help it. He'll always be stuck in my thoughts.
Tre's like a butterfly sitting inside my heart. I can't get rid of him. He's softly beating his wings against my chest, reminding me that he's always going to be there.
.
Tre
"Are you still having the nightmares?"
I grip the chair armrest in my hand, digging my nails into the worn out leather that had seen better days. The small office room feels cramped and claustrophobic. The bright furniture pieces and decorations are supposed to make the room feel more comfortable but they just make my head hurt. They always try too fucking hard. Nobody wants to talk about their feelings surrounded by dumb bright colors that are supposed to make you feel happier.
"Sometimes," I mumble. "Not as often, but they're still there."
I make a hole into the worn leather with my finger, uncomfortable because I am out of my element here.
I've never been one to talk about my feelings. Open was a word that I didn't know how to be. I spent my entire life closed off, unwilling to allow anyone inside my head and heart.
I never thought the day would come when I willingly went to therapy.
And yet here I am, sitting in this stupid soft chair in this bright ass room and talking about my fucking feelings to a complete stranger.
If you told me three months ago that I would be sitting here in my therapist's office like I do every Tuesday afternoon, I would've laughed in your face and told you to fuck off. Seeking help wasn't something I was used to. I always did everything by myself, but I realized that there are some things that you can't do on your own.
According to my therapist, "It's okay to ask for help."
Help. I should have had help starting when my mother died. I should have been taken care of. I should have mattered, someone should have cared enough. But there is no genuine kindness in the system. Nobody really cares what happens to you. The world is fucked up and so are the people in it, including me.
I'm fucked up. I've been fucked up for a long time.
I didn't even know where to begin with how to help myself. I used to numb my pain with alcohol and substances that would make me forget about my fucked up life. I used to use sex as an outlet to mask what I was truly feeling. I didn't let anyone get close to me because I didn't want to feel the hurt of whenever they left me. I was terrified of the cruel world that was unforgiving to me.
I lost a lot. I've known pain like no other, but it killed me to let the one light in my life go. She was my heaven and Angel to the hell I was living in. She owned my damaged heart.
I wanted to be a selfish son of bitch and keep her to myself. I wanted so badly to have her be with me. But I couldn't do that. I knew that I already fucked up her life too much and I didn't want to make it worse.
She was better off without me. I had too much shit going on through my head to be the man that she deserved. I wasn't ready.
I knew that to be happy with Evangeline, I needed to fix myself. I know that I owe it not only to her, but I owe it to myself to get better. When Evangeline ranted about how much I deserved and what I can make myself into, I felt a change in my mind. I've never had someone who would encourage me and tell me that I could make something of myself. Hearing those words come from her was the motivation and push I needed. It was a wake up call that if I truly want to have a good life, one where I could be forever with her and genuinely happy with who I was, I needed to face all of the problems I ignored.
I pushed away my problems and they sat dormant for years, festering until they grew into toxic tar stuck to my heart. I didn't admit how fucked up I was because I didn't want to appear weak. In my old world, you had to be tough, you couldn't show any weakness. Having weaknesses would have gotten you a bullet in between your eyes.
That's why I was an arrogant asshole. It was my shield, but that only pushed myself deeper into the monster's mouth. I didn't have any hope for my life until I met Evangeline. She made me want to be better and seeing how much she risked for me, it made me realize that deep down, I desperately want to have a different life. I want a life where I don't have to feel like I have to hide. I don't want to keep being angry and sad about my childhood losses. I am tired of living in the darkness. I've exhausted my whole being.
I want to be the man that my mother always believed in me to be.
I didn't know how long this shit would take. I needed to figure out who I really was. I knew very well the Trevante that'd drink and lie to save his ass, but I didn't like him. I hated him. I didn't want to be that fucker anymore. I needed to heal.
So I figured the first step in my journey was to get a therapist. I'm trying to be more open and what better way to do that than trust a complete stranger to help you solve your problems. I hated the idea of going to therapy, but I forced myself to go. I was standoffish at the first two sessions, but slowly I was bringing some of my steel walls down.
We first had to go back to the very beginning of it all. My childhood and my mother's death. To get myself to feel more comfortable about opening up about my past trauma, I pictured my therapist as Evangeline and imagined that she was the one I was talking to.
My therapist, Caroline, told me that more often than not, one's issues stem from childhood trauma. And the first step in the process of getting better, I needed to admit and come to terms with what happened to me. I didn't have much forgiveness in my heart. I had only felt hate and anger towards those that did me wrong. But saying my pain out loud and admitting the demons I had living inside me, it made everything real. Which made me realize how fucked up I actually was. There was more trauma and damaged than I had been willing to recognize.
Therapy is a process. Healing is a process. Moving forward is a process. They all take time. You can't rush progress, especially when it's towards your own self.
Caroline reminds me a lot of Evangeline in her wise words. Sometime it's hard for me to hear what she says to me because they sound exactly like something Evangeline would say.
In our previous session last week, we touched briefly on my relationship with Evangeline, but I couldn't talk about it much. It still was a touchy subject. The pain of being apart from her is excruciatingly raw. Sometimes I feel like I want to rip my throat out for letting her go. She's a gaping wound that I can't stitch up.
It's torture not being able to see her. I haven't seen her in two months since the funeral. Going on campus isn't the same without her so I avoid being on campus longer than necessary. I go straight to my classes and then immediately leave. I had started a paid internship at JLL where I shadow the field engineer and help coordinate projects. Most of my time now is filled with school and work. When I'm home, I'm either reading or writing.
The apartment is lonely. It's quiet and feels so bare. I had helped Trell's family move his things out and now the apartment doesn't feel like home anymore. I've started to grow used to the silence, but sometimes it get to be too much to bare. That's when I bury myself in a book or I write in my notebook until my fingers get cramped. The bedroom wall that I posted my writings on was filled up and already so was a another wall. I just can't stop writing, it's my other form of therapy. It's my therapy away from the office. Pretty soon all of my bedroom walls will be covered with sheets of notebook paper with my scribbled words on them. Maybe my entire apartment will be covered with my words of pain and anguish.
"What happens in your nightmares?" Caroline asks me, sitting in her chair with her legs crossed.
I close my eyes, feeling the tension in my back. I was tossing and turning all night because every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was destruction. My nightmares don't occur every night, but they're often enough to keep me awake and hesitant to fall asleep.
"I keep seeing Evangeline in all of them," I tell her. "And I try to reach her but I can't. She's always one step away and I can't touch her no matter how hard I try. She calls out for me to help her and I can't move. I can only stand there and watch her scream for me."
I close my eyes and shake my head to get rid of the images of her tear-stained face screaming for me.
"You miss her and haven't seen her in months. You don't really know how she is doing now. Your mind thinks of the worst case scenarios because that's what you were accustomed to," Caroline explains. "By missing Evangeline, your mind creates false realities in your dreams. It's the unknown and loss of control that makes your nightmares."
"I don't know if I want them to go away or not because my dreams are the only place I can still see her," I admit, my throat becoming tight and I clench my fists.
"Dreams and nightmares are unpredictable, but determining the cause of your inner turmoil can help them become more subdued." She pauses and gives an encouraging smile. "They will get better."
I nod slightly, still not used to hearing encouraging words.
"You're doing very well Tre. It's not easy to do this, so I appreciate that you're here speaking with me. Change doesn't happen overnight and while things may get hard, it will all be worth it in the end."
"Thanks," I mumble and take mental notes of her words so I'll remember them for later.
"Now," she smiles and sits up straighter. "Do you want to tell me more about Evangeline?"
I sigh and swipe a hand over my face before adjusting my posture in the chair. Fuck me.
Today is Valentine's Day. I always thought the holiday was fucking stupid. I didn't do the cliché romance shit so I never celebrated the "holiday of love." It's corny as shit if you ask me. I'd rather do something meaningful, that's why I remembered all of the small things that Evangeline liked. I remembered her dreams and goals. I fucking danced in the pouring rain with her because I wanted to show her that I would always love her. If that doesn't scream better romance than some fucking flowers that'll wilt in a day then I don't know what does.
It's special when you find that one love that makes you want to fly them to the moon just to see the stars reflect in their eyes.
Images of Evangeline replay in my mind and I long for the day that I'll get to see her again.
"Yeah, I do."