Returning To You

I spend the rest of the day trying not to have a panic attack. Paige’s words set off something inside me, and I have a terrible feeling my life is about to head into majorly complicated territory.
When I feel tears welling at the sight of a pair of girls giggling together in my trig class, I finally give up and pull out my phone. I’m going to need a session with Dr. Jacobs if I have any hope of making it through the week without a total breakdown. Her receptionist works me into the schedule without a hassle, another benefit my father has arranged.

I make it through the rest of my classes then hop on a city bus. Dr. Jacobs’s office is located on a bustling downtown street dotted with restaurants and retail spaces. I try to enjoy the spring sunshine as I make my way from the bus stop to her building.

“Hello, Daisy,” the receptionist says when I enter. “I’m glad you’re here today.”
I give her a weak smile, sign in, and sit in the half-full waiting room. Trying to dispel the silly idea that everyone is staring at me, I get up and search through the magazine rack for something to use to hide my face. I think I catch sight of Andy's eyes peeking out at me from one of the tabloid glossies. Looking at that would not be a good idea right now, so I grab a home decor magazine and settle down to wait.
“Daisy?”

I look up and the receptionist is smiling at me.
She gestures at the door. “Come on back.”
I ignore the glares of all those who have clearly been waiting for longer than I have and slip into Dr. Jacobs’s office.

"Hello Daisy. It's good to see you." She smiles. I feel marginally more at ease. I connected with Dr. Jacobs pretty early on when I moved out here, and she’s been a big help to me. I don’t think I would be in college without her—for better or worse. “Thanks,” I mumble, taking my seat in the comfortable armchair opposite her.

She watches me, waiting, I know, for me to look up and make eye contact. The eye contact thing is big for her, and she’s always bugging me to work on it. “You’ll feel more confident when you act more confident,” she says. Yeah, right.
Still, I raise my head and meet her eyes. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“No problem. You can always stop in, Daisy, you know that.”

I return my attention to my sleeves, knowing she won’t hassle me about it anymore this session. She lets me do whatever I need to feel comfortable enough to talk to her. It’s one of the reasons I like her so much.
When I first met her at the Horizons Recovery Center, I was having a hard time talking to any of the doctors. Group therapy was a nightmare—ten sets of eyes staring as people waited for me to talk. Dr. Jacobs had seen right away how counterproductive that setting was for me and worked to get me excused from the sessions until I felt more comfortable. I owe her for that, big time.

“So,” she says, after we’ve sat in silence for a few moments, “what brings you in today?”
I sigh. “I’ve been having an… interesting week.”
“How so?”
“I… met someone. A girl. In one of my classes. She invited me to have lunch with her and a friend.”
“Did you go?”
I nod, and I can hear her almost inaudible intake of breath. She’s surprised. I don’t blame her.
“That’s wonderful, Daisy. I’m proud of you.”
I snort. “You know, when you say stuff like that, it just shows me how fucked up I am. You’re proud of me for going to lunch with a couple of girls in my class. Think about how pathetic that sounds.”
“Who cares how it sounds? You and I both know what you’ve been through. No one else is entitled to judge your experience or your journey.” She pauses. “The truth is, Daisy, having a positive interaction with a peer is a big deal for you. And the fact that you willingly extended that meeting to a lunch is a great step. Now, tell me, how did you feel?”

“How do you think? I was awkward and weird, and they were probably super relieved when I left.”
“That may be the case, and, if so, you can’t control their reactions. But that doesn’t take away from the step you took.”
I burrow slightly farther into my hoodie. “The weird thing is that they didn’t act relieved. At least, Paige didn’t. She’s the girl I met in class. Turns out she’s in my lit class too. She was waiting for me there today.”
I look up in time to see Dr. Jacobs’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Really? Did you speak with her again?”
I tell her all about it, how Paige was so nice and how they even invited me to road trip with them this summer. I pause, not knowing how to bring up the real crux of the issue. “But here’s the thing; this wasn’t just a random meeting.”
“What do you mean?”
“She started talking to me in class because she saw me with a magazine… with a picture of Andy.”
“Ah. She’s a fan, I take it?”
“Yes. That’s what the road trip is all about. They’re following the tour on the east coast. And they want me to come with them.”
“And how do you feel about that idea?”
I laugh bitterly. “Obviously, it isn’t going to happen. How could I go? I’d have to see them.”
“And that would be a bad thing?”
I gape at her. “Come on. You can’t expect me to actually see those guys.”
“Why not? They were once very important to you. And your relationship with them has little to do with everything else that followed. It might be a good thing for you to see them.”
I shift uncomfortably. I have the feeling she’s about to start encouraging me to do something I don’t want to do. Dr. Jacobs is a master at bugging me until I agree to go along with her crazy plans.
“I went online last night.” I say it fast, so fast I’m not entirely sure she hears me. But she doesn’t ask for clarification so I barrel forward. “Without the filter on, I mean. After I saw that picture and talked to Paige, I had to see what was going on with them, so I went online and searched for them.”
“How did you feel, being online?”
“I was scared, I guess, at first. But then I kinda forgot about it. I just was too caught up in… them.”
“They’re doing well, I take it?”
I nod. “Really well.”
“How do you feel about their success?”
I do my best not to get irritated with her. I know it’s her job, but I get tired of that question. How do you feel? How did that feel? How did you feel then? Sometimes I wish I could just tell her what happened without having to dig into the emotional stuff of every single experience. “I felt… really proud of them. And it felt kind of surreal, that it was them, you know? These kids I knew so well were on The Tonight Show. It was weird.” I pause. “I also felt a little sad, I guess.”
“Why do you think that is?”
I’m quiet, trying to isolate the feeling from last night. “Because I wasn’t there with them. Because they did it without me. I didn’t even know most of these things were happening.”
“Daisy, I think you miss them.”
“Of course I miss them.” My voice is sharper than I intended. “I haven’t seen them in more than a year.”
If she catches the annoyance in my tone, she doesn’t let on. “And in that time, you went through things no person should have to deal with. And you did it without your best friends.” I feel tears prick at my eyes, but she continues. “And then, once you started to heal, you had to deal with the effects of your experiences.”
I know she’s talking about the fact that I have no friends at school—or anywhere else for that matter. I can’t even have a conversation with someone my own age. I sit in class alone every day before going home, alone, to sit in a silent apartment until it’s time to go to bed.
“You’ve been very lonely for a long time, Daisy. It’s natural that you should miss the last real friends that you had.”
I wipe my eyes. “I went on their Instagram page,” I say, my voice small with shame.
She has always been the one advocating that I be trusted to go online, that when the time came I could be strong enough to stay away from the sites that were a trigger for me. I worry she’ll be disappointed that she was wrong.

Notes

Another update cx

I know its kinda boring, but a little more explanation.

Thanks fo subscribing!