Cut and Run

I leaned back into the cushioned seat in which I always spent my daily therapy sessions. Between four and four forty-five every afternoon I was in this chair, and across from me is where my therapist sat during this time. Dr. Paul Young.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Paul, as he insisted I call him, I just didn’t wish to talk to him about the swirling emotions and thoughts that kept my mind occupied throughout the days. He wasn’t a person I trusted, but I knew that I should try to since I admit that I need help. Trust, like respect, is something to be earned, and I have yet to believe he has earned my trust as of now.

From the very beginning of our sessions, I had told him that I wasn’t fond of subtle questions on how I was doing; I would prefer if he asked outright. Paul, for the most part, had done as I asked. Despite his cooperation, my answered remained cryptic, or he didn’t get verbal one. More often then not my response to his questions was a shrug of the shoulder or something similar.

“Andrea, was there ever a time when you loved your father? Before the abuse, maybe?” I thought for a moment, and I’m sure that I did when I was little. That love though, was never returned. My father could never love anyone, not even himself. “‘You never loved me. Now I cannot lie down in that bed. I cannot lie down in all of those old fears,’” I said, quoting a band I liked.

“Converge, right?” Paul said after a moment. I nodded in response, a little shocked that he knew who I had quoted. “Tell me, Andrea, what’s your opinion on love?” he asked me, pressing his finger tips together in a pensive manner.

“‘What is cold to you is love to me. Savior seething, rolling you in, cherub in red said there's nothing to see here. Hallowed be who art in heaven, I refuse to call that fucker by name.’” Originally, I had planned to only let the beginning of that quote be my answer, but the last part was one of my favorites so I added it as well. Paul just smiled, and asked me another question about my father. On whether the saying “Out of sight, out of mind,” applied. It was obvious that Paul knew that it didn’t, but still he asked.

“‘Desperation and outstretched memories, now I see you only in bad dreams,’” I replied, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I waited for another question. Every single answer I gave him was a Converge quote, something that both amused and irked him. The session passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for me to leave. Before I did, though, Paul had one last thing to say to me.

“‘To those who've killed this hope, a presage, I will rise again. Phoenix in flight.’ Converge mentions the phoenix in more than one song, I recall at least three in which they do. A phoenix bursts into flames when it dies, and is reborn from the ashes.”

I left the room then, thinking. What was Paul saying to me with the reference to the phoenix? What could he possibly mean?

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I climbed into Justin’s car and gave him a quick hug. Like we always did after therapy on Thursdays and Saturdays, we stopped for ice cream. I got the hot fudge brownie sundae, and he got a butterscotch sundae. Justin never asked me questions on how therapy was going, because he knew very well I was being difficult. He understood, though, without me having to tell him the reason.

***

Arriving at Camden Hills after my ice cream break with my brother, I saw none other than the dumpster boy himself, texting furiously on his cell. I skipped over to him and plopped myself down on the table next to him. “Who ya texting?” I asked, not being one for minding my own business. “My stalker,” he replied with a grin.

“Oh, Freddy?” I asked even though I already knew the answer. Camden nodded, and I laughed. “Oh, tell her ‘sweet anecdote, man’ for me, will you?” I asked. Camden looked at me with a confused expression, so I explained it to him.

“Freddy had recently discovered the phrase ‘Cool story, bro!’ So her brother and I use ‘Sweet anecdote, man!’ to let her see how annoying it is.”

“Oh, cool story, bro!” Camden replied, a wide smile on his face.