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Trent -- Therapy
“Hi. I’m Trent Milner.”I moved my laptop so the camera pointed to me, my phone sitting to my side, as I kicked back on my bed, hoping that the hostel Wi-Fi was decent for anhour.
A lavender-haired woman with a western shirt adjusted the web camera so it was on her face. “I’m Marie Thrash. Nice to meet you. Where are you rightnow?”
“I’m in Granada, in the south part ofSpain.”
She signaled at the set-up. “While it’s unusual to have a therapy session over Skype, and even more unusual to do it on a Sunday, I’m happy to accommodate you. Why don’t you start by telling me what’s on yourmind?”
I almost laughed—whatwasn’ton my mind—then I found myself telling her about the last month—Degan’s death, my nightmares, and how I ended up in Spain in love withDani.
“She knows how I feel about her, but it’s choking her. I need to let her be. It’s better forher.”
“Why?” Marie’s question was asked gently, but itstung.
I shifted on the bed. “Because she told me she doesn’t want a relationship. I tried to push her into it. And I think that was me trying to control her. I can’t do thatanymore.”
My phone buzzed. I picked it up. A text from Dani saying she wanted totalk.
“Hang on. Dani messagedme.”
“You can answerit.”
I texted Dani,I’m on Skype with the therapist. Call you in20.
Then I continued talking. “I feel so empty. Like a bullet casing after it had been fired. I don’t know what I’m going to do after the army. And if Dani doesn’t want me…I’m so lost. I came here to tell her he died, butnow…”
“That must have been rough tellingher.”
I paused and rubbed the back of my neck. “It was the second hardest thing I’ve had to do in my entire life. The hardest was burying my best friend.” And I couldn’t help it. I reached for atissue.
Marie let me cry, gazing at me through the computer with tears in hereyes.
“I’m so sorry,Trent.”
“It’sokay.”
“I think it’s necessary for you to honor and process what happened. To be withit.”
“Yeah, the yoga teacher said something likethat.”
“Yogateacher?”
“Yeah. This weekend. I’ve been trying yoga, and I don’t know. While I was there, breathing, I got this feeling that he hadn’t died in vain. He’d died for me to keep breathing. So maybe I should do that. But it’s just sohard.”
“It would honor his memory for you to live lifefully.”
“Yes,absolutely.”
“So if you were going to honor his memory, what would be the next step you wouldtake?”
“I could go to school. I’m actually liking learning Spanish. Somewhere else, nothere.”
“Why notthere?”
“Because I need to leave her alone. I don’t need to hurt her more than I alreadyhave.”
“Why do you think you hurther?”
