Page 23 of Senseless
“I…just…” Fuck, this was difficult. I wish I could disappear into a hole in the ground.
“You’re not over her.” Jen nodded matter-of-factly, gesturing toward my arm. The arm that had the tattoo ofheron the inside.
“I…guess not.” Nor would I ever be. Not entirely. “How’d you know?”
“All the signs are there,” she remarked with a shrug. “A man shows up alone, doesn’t respond to any attention, though it’s clear he’s missing something or someone. But he keeps it all wrapped up, only finding comfort in drinking and staying busy.”
“I’m that obvious, huh?” I rubbed at my forearm absently.
“I’ve been a bar wench a long time,” she chuckled. “I’ve seen all kinds. Yours seems like a hell of a story, though.” Her smile dropped and she asked quietly, “Are you gonna go back to her?”
If that was an option, I would in a heartbeat. If I had even the faintest sign, a whisper in the breeze or a vague note in one of those folded up cookies that I could be withheragain, I’d be gone in a cloud of dust.
But it wouldn’t happen. Happiness didn’t come for people like me.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll move on from this place eventually, but there’s no going back for me.”
Jen’s eyes widened. “Is she…?”
“No, she’s alive. She’s fine, actually.” I forced my hand away from my forearm, to stop petting my tattoo like it could will Mari into real life. “She’s much better off without me around.”
Jen tilted her head again, giving me a skeptical look this time. “Not sure if I believe that.”
“She is,” I insisted. “That’s not just me being hard on myself.”
“If you say so, big guy.” She nudged her shoulder into mine as we started walking back toward the service center. I recognized it as a friendly gesture I didn’t need to step away from. “You seeing Doc today?”
“Yeah, as soon as I drop this off in my room.” I held up the gun case.
“You want a drink before seeing him?”
“No thanks. He said he wanted me sober for this one.”
“Ooh, interesting,” Jen mused. “Trying something new?”
“I think so.” I swallowed, my thoughts turning anxious. I had just started to feel like I was gaining control on these trips through my subconscious. Every time I made progress, Doc pushed me a little more. I’d come to sweating and panting, but my mind felt a little quieter after every session. A little bit less of the poisonous, evil place that I tried to shove down at every opportunity.
“Well, good luck.” Jen made her way behind the bar once we got inside. “If you need me, you know where to find me afterward,” she added with a wink.
“Thanks. I’ll see you later, Jen.”
I didn’t want to encourage the idea that anything might happen between her and me, but if the tight clamp in my chest was any indication, drinking it away would be a necessity after tonight.
“Where are you, Ivan?”Doc’s voice permeated my subconscious, true and clear, solid, like an anchor for me to hold onto.
“My cage.” The answer was usually the same, but the feeling was different today.
“How old are you at this time?”
I looked down at myself, at my skinny arms and legs covered in dirt and the infected cuts across my thin body. Cuts thathurt.
“I’m young,” I said, my voice sounding foreign in comparison to the small body it was coming from. “Eight, maybe ten years old?”
“What do you notice about your surroundings?”
“There’s…there’s not much.” My cage was nearly empty, no books or reading material like the ones I taught myself from in later years. A dirty container of water was nearly empty. My threadbare blanket was laid out neatly in the corner. In front of me was a stick, the end sharpened to a point. A crude drawing was made in the patch of dirt just outside my cage—a simple face with eyes, a mouth, a nose, and long hair. A self-portrait of sorts.
“How are you feeling at this moment in time?”
