Narcissus

"So, I had to leave her there."

I tried to swallow, but my throat stuck together instead. My eyes glazed over the room, and ah, it was the damn air vent. Its low hum resonated in sync with the focus I was capable of maintaining.

"Mhm... And how did that make you feel?"

You couldn't care less could you? I heaved a heavy breath and eased my aching lungs. That feels better.

"Well, I guess I feel like I lost myself," my brows furrowed for a moment, and I paused for that second.

This was important. Really important, and I only began to realize that I found what I was trying to say for the past two weeks. But my pause was due to hesitation, not celebration. I didn't want to share this so much anymore. I thought this meant a lot, but would they?

"and you know what? I think that's time!

Let me grab my coat, and-" But I never finished my sentence.

"No, you'll stay here. There is still plenty of said time."

"Listen here bud, these are my minutes you're using so can't we wrap things up? I'll float you an extra twenty. How's that sound?" But it didn't sound like much from him, because all that he gave me was that look. That look that asked what I would possibly do with my time.

What could I possibly do?

Nothing.

I slumped back into the chaise and patted its side as if I were admitting to it that it was all righteous.

God, I hated that thing. I hated the muddy puddle of guilt I felt to be sitting on every single session. I choked up whenever I sat there.

Maybe it was just dust.

"Where was I... Ah yes, and so I was lost. The end."

I looked up to receive a somewhat apathetic glance.

"Oh, so you're gonna listen this time? Is that what's happening?"

Another miffed groan, before I chose to continue, only for the humor of it.

"You know what Donald? I can tell my stupid story as many times as I want anyways. Allow me to vindictively take away ten minutes of your life you'll never get back." Following my remark, I heard a sound I knew too well to be a face-palm.

"For God's sake Taryn, how many times must I remind you that therapists are here to help you. Not harm you!"

And to that I nodded my head in such sarcasm that it was surreal.

"Gee Don, Well buckle up, because I'm about to take you through the swell journey of my stimulating life story!"

I gave it a moment, and so did he. I heard no heavy sighs, no face slaps, and so I wound up the jack in the box. This was important to me. This, was important to me.

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It was a weird love I discovered, especially since I had hated her so much for as far as I can remember. That meant a good deal, because I had a tendency for remembering. Even the bad things.

But one day I had fallen for her, because of a sad look in her eyes. The sad look she gave me every night. And so to be contemporary, I tried something new. I smiled at her and she smiled back.

I was able to make someone happy? Huh, was the only thought that came to mind after that first encounter with her. And it was the only thought I had for a whole 15 hours before seeing her again. This time before bed, which one could imagine was the reason why I dreamed of her that night. The brush before bed left me much more puzzled, because I was able to make her do a sad-smile back to me. Did she understand my human sadness? The one that made me feel like I was crying at the beach? Did this little creature I had abused all my life for being so miserable, have a heart for me?

And of course, the first few days of her were not founded on love. They were awkward and uncomfortable like something I had not experienced or practiced when everyone else had been. So I was comforted when I found out promptly that she felt the same way, and that we were in this awkwardness together. I found out when I had tried in vain to touch her face- my hand only met hers. And when I asked her a question, she asked the same one back. She answered the same as well. We were on the same level.

My meetings with her became more and more frequent, as I began to hold a certain craving for her. And I learned new resemblances between the two of us each time, like the fact that she had the same scars as I did. The same eyes, the same dirt under our nails. I showed her the silly tattoo I got back in the tenth grade, underneath my left sleeve, and she had the same one. We’d hear things sometimes though, things we didn’t like to hear and so we’d block them out and press our hands together to heave heavy breaths. So, I went to sleep feeling less and less lonely each night, knowing that she was only but five steps away from my bed, over my dresser. I felt myself breath properly for the first time in a good four years, and life was good.

But the sea is always so calm before the storm isn’t it? I became so frightened on that one night. I had heard them talking about her. Me and her. My heart drummed madly, and my stomach turned. I heard them call me names. “Crazy, mad, left alone for too long again.” They would strip me of her, and I knew they would finally do it that morning. On my head was a crown of sweat, for I had just been crowned queen of the fake reality. I knew it wasn’t true. I knew it all along, and so I needed to find her before the words wired themselves in.

“It took too long to learn to love you,” I started in a whisper, and allowed my lids to drop so that I wouldn’t see her.

“It’s taken years. That’s far too long for them to take me away from you. I wish I had found you sooner, and I’m so sorry that I only just started to love you.” Quite pathetically I couldn’t cry, so I just rested my forehead against hers, and traced my finger along the frames.

“Promise to forgive me?” I asked, and I believe that was the last question we asked each other.

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“So, what do you think?” I felt a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth which was ironic despite the fact that I had just spilled myself out to someone I didn’t believe to give a damn about my existence. Not hearing any response, I craned my neck back to check if Donald had fallen asleep again. But much to my surprise, he had not. No, in fact: An appalled song played across his face.

“What do I think? Well,” with a thoroughly amused chuckle he continued, “I think we’re going for a drink tonight! It’s on me, after everything you’ve felt- it’s on me.” And the way he looked at me showed me that what I told him was important to him. And I knew this for sure because a few months later, my birthday rolled up. He brought her back to me.

“God…” I murmured. It had been some time since I’d seen a mirror.