Page 84 of This I Know
“Can you tell me what you feel in your body when these feelings come up?”
And I tell her. I tell her what I think she wants to know, and the exact answers to all her questions. But I also tell her the truth. Because really … she seems okay.Thisseems okay. And someone’s got to hear it. This counseling thing may not be what I expected, but hey – at least there’s the possibility that I could get something out of it.
“That’s all normal,” she assures me as she listens.
At the end of the session, she’s finishing up her notes and I’m just sitting here waiting to be done. Then, without thinking, I speak out of nowhere, asking the question that’s been invisibly on my mind.
“Do you think it’s alright if I get back into a relationship?”
She looks at me briefly, then turns back to her writing. She must be waiting for me to continue.
“So soon, I mean?”
This time, she doesn’t stop writing. “A romantic relationship? Where did you meet this gentleman?”
“Through school.”
She nods. “And how does it make you feel, Avery?”
“How does what make me feel?” Apparently I’m still not very good at this.
“Well, how doeshemake you feel?”
I don’t answer.
“Does he make you feel good or bad?”
“Good. He makes me feel good.” I add, “And safe.”
She smiles. “Safe is good. Safe is very good. Just listen to those feelings, okay?”
“Okay.”
I’ve just walked inside and thrown my purse and key down on the kitchen table. The sun is shining through the windows, but the house itself sounds completely empty.
Suddenly, my mom appears from the backyard. She’s holding a tall glass in one hand, full of a drink and clinking ice cubes, and slides the door closed behind her.
“How’d it go?” she asks.
I envy the fact that she was able to enjoy the sun while I was stuck in that grim, tiny office. I’m glad at least one of us was able to relax today.
“It went okay.”
She sets down her glass. “How do you think you did?”
I stick my head into the fridge, fishing for something to eat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean did you learn anything useful? Like we talked about?”
I stand, having found some pre-cut watermelon squares to snack on. “I think so.” I sit down at the table and toss one in my mouth. “I mean, she was nice.”
My mom sneaks a chunk out of the bowl. She hands me a napkin and then sits down across from me. “Did you happen to mention you-know-who?”
“His name is Ethan. And yes, I did. In so many words.”
“‘In so many words’? Okay, now it’s my turn – what does that mean?” She’s peering at me over the top of the piece of watermelon she’s holding in front of her face.
I know exactly what she’s trying to do here. Her and I have already talked about Ethan and now she’s expecting updates. I walk to the garbage and throw away the remainder of my piece. “She said I should follow my heart.” At least, that’s my cheesy, romanticized version of our conversation.
