Page 75 of The Night We Met

“What do you want from me Kam?” Mason asks me.

I get a flashback to our first true weekend together. “Dates. Quality dates. And then hopefully we go from there.”

A smirk that hasn’t changed in the years past, graces his face. “I’m up for the challenge.”

I hide my growing smile behind my drink and take a sip. “Okay, then. I’ll see you around.”

I’m about to step back into the club when I hear my name called behind me.

“Same number?”

“Yeah. Same number.”

I find the girls when I’m back inside. The DJ popping out hit after hit and the patrons dancing to their heart's content. But my whole world was just shaken. The love of my life came back into my life. Well, I shouldn’t say back into my life. He has to work for it.

Making my way back to our roped off section, I see the girls dancing the night away. I’m hoping theystay on the dancefloor as I try and sort through the last thirty minutes. The last thirty minutes in which my world has shifted. Am I happy to have seen Mason? I hesitate to say yes so firmly. Does the hurt feeling resurface? Yes. Without a doubt, yes.

In all of the romance books I’ve read, there has always been a good ‘on his knees, forgive me’ moment. The moment when the guy, or even the girl realizes they messed up and do everything in their power to win the forgiveness and love back for their person. Sometimes it’s a monstrous gesture and sometimes it’s small things that mean more to the couple than even the reader realizes.

Kamryn

“How is that truly making you feel Kamryn?”

My thoughts were so jumbled after seeing Mason that I knew I needed to see my therapist. She helped me through moving here and with getting deeper into my feelings and thoughts. While she’s not the same therapist I had when I needed some outlet after Liam died, Theresa came highly recommended by my former therapist, Maggie.

I pick at a hangnail, as I try to gather my thoughts. “I feel…like this should have happened seven years ago. Like…”

“Do you think your hesitance has something to do with Liam?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Theresa puts her notepad and pen down. It’s when I know she’s about to get serious. Well, more serious than her job already is. “When was the last time you went and visited with Liam?”

“A few weeks after he died,” My response stumps me. Subconsciously I think I knew visiting Liam would never behigh on my to-do list. I got everything out that I needed to when I visited Liam. At least I thought I had. Now with my past knocking at my door, I’m not so sure if I ever left the past in the past.

Like most sessions we engage in a silent stare-down. Her, willing me to talk unprovoked. Me, wishing she would prompt something for me to say. My mind is empty and I break our stare-down to focus back on the hangnail that gets stuck on my shirt sleeve. Our session time is slowly running out. That’s a good thing. Some days I love my therapy sessions. Other days, I dread my therapy session. Today is one of those days that I dread my therapy session. While I feel like I have so much to talk about, my brain won’t connect to my mouth.

“Thirty days.” Theresa announces by way of breaking the silence. My head snaps up to her.

“Thirty days for what?”

“In order for these sessions to continue to be effective, they only work if you talk to me. So I want you to go buy a journal and write in it for thirty days. It can be about anything that happens to you throughout the day. Write it down. Because Kamryn, I know you have a lot to talk about. It’s the getting you to talk about it consistently that’s a bit of an issue. And not just with me, but your friends and family too.”

I always thought I was good with my words. My parents never had to pull teeth to get me to speak. But this feels like a setback.

“I know this is hard for you Kamryn. Just give it thirty days. Then we’ll talk again.”

The rest of the day is a blur. I heed Theresa’s advice and pick up a journal after my session. Being around people is too much effort so I end up working fromhome as being a business owner allows me that luxury. I stare out at my backyard and the pond that’s the centerfold of my neighborhood with Poppy in my lap and the sound of FRIENDS in the background providing me the much needed background noise. Idly petting her proves to be the perfect heart rate soother as her purrs calm me. Taking a deep breath, I pick up my pen and I sketch out mine and Mason’s new meeting in the journal I picked up. It doesn’t take me long to get carried away with the scene. My mind had been replaying this new meeting since I left him on the rooftop. Lucy nuzzling my leg brings me to a stopping point. The movement jolts Poppy out of my lap.

“Yes?” I ask her.

Of course she can’t respond since she’s a dog. But I assume her nuzzling me means she wants to go outside. Unfolding myself from my chair, I grab my smaller sketch pad along with my journal, meander downstairs and out the backdoor to let Lucy run around and hopefully get more inspiration for the rest of my Winter line.

I found myself at a bit of a standstill last week. I’m not wanting to get too over eager with my designs as I know how fast trends change. But it’s hard to stop trying to top my last line.

Picking back up my journal, I flip to a blank sheet. I never imagined reliving traumatic moments would lead to cathartic moments. Before I know it, I’m drawing out that night in Liam’s truck. The night before life imploded. I draw and rewrite that night because it seems that’s when life was on track. Our relationship was in a fragile state, but we were still us. At least we were trying to hold on to what made us an us.

The sun is setting by the time I lift my head up. The string lights in my patio have turned on andthe fireflies make their presence known. I look back down at the filled up pages and I feel somewhat lighter. The words I wrote next to the memory I drew can't change the past. As I look over every detail, I feel almost lighter. But something I’ve learned about myself is that my lightness is harder to ignite.

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