Page 2 of The Sound of Forever
It’s remembering.
Remembering the nightmares that hit like gut punches, dragging memories I’d rather leave buried in the darkness of my heart. Remembering the therapy session where every nerve in my body screamed to get the fuck out, where I wanted to bolt, flip everyone off, and tell the world to go to hell.
But here’s the thing—the therapists have the upper hand. I can’t run. Not like I used to. Standing up feels like climbing a mountain, and walking away? Forget it. By the time I’ve even thought about moving, the counselor in turn has already thrown logic in my face.
“Stop, think, act,” the therapist says, like it’s that simple. Like it’s that simple. Like stopping my mind from spiraling is as easy as flipping a switch.
But maybe they’re onto something. Or maybe they just have more patience than I do. Either way, I’m stuck here, forced to slow down when all I want is to move—move past this, past the pain, past the endless reminders of how far I’ve fallen.
But maybe slowing down is the point. Maybe it's the only way to figure out where I go from here.
ChapterThree
Keane
DayFive
Only eighty-five days to get the fuck out of here. Eighty-five more chances to fail.
ChapterFour
Keane
DaySeven
The therapist told me to be more specific with my entries and to journal every day.
So, here it goes: Why do I want to get the fuck out of here?
Because facing my truths feels like razor blades against my skull. Glass shattering inside my head, explosions that only hurt my soul. And I have nothing to numb the pain. There’s no music, no pills, no Philly.
How do I stop everything? Trying to remember, walk again, or talk was a lot easier than dealing with the past. This pain . . . it is too much to handle. Maybe if I get the fuck out I can find a better way to deal with it—or just go back to the old ways.
ChapterFive
Keane
DayNine
Fuck today.
ChapterSix
Keane
Day Ten
Today in therapy, they asked me what I love most about Ophelia Foster. So here I am, thinking about why I love her so much. Why I can’t live without her and the pain of knowing she belongs to someone else is crushing me.
She loved me. Unconditionally, unapologetically, endlessly. And let’s be honest, I’m not the easiest person to love. I know that. But she did it anyway.
She was the only person who actually saw me—therealme, not the me everyone else wanted me to be. She didn’t try to fix me. She put up with my moods, my self-destruction, and my endless ability to ruin everything good in my life. If there’s a medal for patience, it should have her name engraved on it. She believed in me more than I believed in myself. But now I wonder if I only kept going because she refused to let me quit.
ChapterSeven
Keane
Day Fifteen
