Because i believe

But you see Landon, sometimes it gets hard. In a world full of people that do not even try to understand the perspective of where you come from. Fine Landon I get it. I get how people would prefer to have a social outing with over twenty people over anything else and I’m not discrediting that. However- sometimes it gets overwhelming. No one here seems to understand that Landon. That I prefer talking with you- with my stuffed rabbit animal, rather than have a conversation with someone about how I feel Landon. That’s too vulnerable- my feelings are too vulnerable! Landon you see I’m not especially talented-neither do I have the insanely good looks- i know how to enjoy time Landon. But someti-

“Ms. Celine, can you please answer this question”

“What question?”

“Ms. Celine. This is therapy. It will not work if you do not communicate with me.”

Sighing I put my phone down.

“Mr. stones. I appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t need help. I truly don’t.”

“Ms. Celine, your parents are very worried about you. Can i ask for who you're texting that is better than having this session?"

“Mr. stones. My parents are too involved in their own worlds to notice me- let along notice how I act.

And- I’m texting my friend.

“Your parents did not particularly tell me that you had friends Ms. Celine.”

I laugh bitterly. “Of course not Mr. stones.”

“Can I ask you a question, Ms. Celine?” he looked at me curiously.

Seeing as no answer makes its way, he proceeds. “What’s your friend’s name?”

Wow. A first.

I stand up and walk towards the door of his office.

“Landon.”

I did not glance back as I headed towards the door.

-----------------------

“Celine- come here!”

Seriously? “Mom I’m writing!”

My door burst open as my mom steps in. “For god’s sake Celine, Why are you always writing?” You have a lot of hobbies! You are really good at drawi- yes and also dancing!

“Mom we discussed this. Will you ever leave me to be my own space?”

Mom didn’t like that, because next thing you know she storms out of the room. As always.

Sighing for what felt like the millionth time-I continue writing- or could you call it that? I’ve been stuck not knowing what to write for more than two weeks now. Every time I open my laptop- stare at my screen and shut it. What’s new though? I’m used to all this- absence of parents, absence of friends, absence of everything good that could possibly occur. My only escape was writing it down.

Who would know? If I write down everything that goes on in my life under another name. No one ever knows- and it stays this way. I was determined to make it through this writer’s hiatus. It was and always will be my only escape.

Shutting down my laptop, I lay in bed. Getting a pen, and a piece of paper I start writing to my friend.

Dear Landon, how are you? It has only been a few hours since I last talked to you- but it feels like decades have passed.

It’s been rough lately. But that’s life. One day I’ll finish this story Landon. Once I finish it, I promise I will take a long vacation. It’s been really tough for you to keep up with me, right? I owe It to you though. Who knows what I could’ve done if not for you? Thank you, landon.

Tossing the letter with the rest of the letters I wrote endlessly in the basket; I hop onto my desk yet again. I need to get over this hiatus. I need to write.

It’s been four weeks, three days, and six hours.

I have not seen light for four weeks, three hours, and six days.

I have not stepped out of my room for four weeks, three hours, and six days.

I have not talked to neither one of my parents for four weeks, three hours, and six days.

I was not tired though. No. Quite the opposite though. I feel energized. I feel happy. I owe this to Landon. I owe this to myself. I’ll finish this story soon-very soon. And then I’ll take a long and very relaxing break. Away from my parents- away from everyone.

Alone. Soon. Very soon.

 ----------------------------

It took two more weeks to finish the story. I look over my suitcase that was now resting over my quite large bed. Everything was ready and in place. I defeated the block. The story was now over, it was finished.

I go over top my bed and look over my suitcase and the pile of unopened messages written to Landon.

I smile faintly. Thank you, Landon.

I grab my suitcase and go open the door that leads to a long hallway. Walking through the hallway I make my way downstairs. My parents look at me, and it does not look like they are going to say something soon.

“I’m going on a trip mom, dad. I’m not sure when exactly I will be returning. But it might take long.” I point to my suitcase. My parents didn’t show any sign of disappointment. Nor appeasement. I took that as a sign to get going.

I got out.

--

Before making my final stop at the airport, I decide to stop at a place first.

--

“Ms. Celine? I surely did not expect you here today.”

“Hello Mr. stones, I didn’t know I would come her either. But- I guess I stopped by.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to sit down. Tea?”

“Thank you, Mr. stones, but I did not come for therapy.”

“Then?” he asked confused.

“You asked me about my friend Landon.”

“Yes, I remember. But what does that have to do with-‘’

I handed out an envelope to Mr. stones. He took it, still confused.

“This Mr. stones is my story that I’ve recently finished. If you ever have time, you can read it.

“you published a story?’

“Not published Mr. stones- I wrote this story. No one has ever read it-or will ever. But- you’re the first one who ever asked me about my friend.”

“I don’t understand- what does Landon have to with this story?”

I smiled.

His face cleared. As if grasping what I just said.

“Landon- he’s not real, is he?”

“Mr. stones. I don’t remember the last time anyone ever asked me something. I don’t remember the last time anyone has ever asked about how I felt- or why I did not ever socialize. He did not ask though.” I smiled faintly. Landon never once judged me for how I felt-or ever left me alone when I was having dark thoughts. Everyone did- but not Landon. Mr. stones, What’s the point of loving something if it only means it’s there for you to see with your own eyes? Landon is real for me. I believe that he is here. With me. This is probably why my parents offered therapy” I laugh mockingly.

“Landon is the heroin of your story” It was not a question.

I smiled. “Landon is something I believe in Mr. stones. It is my story. I chose to believe. And although this might seem crazy to some people- I pity for them. That they can’t love something without confirmation. That they cannot believe.”

Mr. stones looked at me. Still not saying a word.

I smile to him as I slowly make my way out of his office.

But a hand stops me. “You are not crazy Celine. To believe. That is power. You are strong, because you believe.”