Earthquake

Frank

All these feelings, these yesterday's feelings, will all be lost in time

She keeps telling me that I will get over it. That I will get over Emerson. It's not true. I could never forget Emerson Hunter.

Tick, tick, tick. 30 minutes left.

30 minutes left of listen to some stupid therapist tell me how I feel. I don't need to know how I feel. I'm the one who feels it, aren't I?

Tick, tick, tick. 15 minutes left.

"So, how long were you two together?" asked Mrs. Cooper.

That was her name, Mrs. Cooper. She sounded so hard and cold, so emotionless. How could she be married? How could she know anything about love?

"Forever," I responded, avoiding her gaze.

I squirmed in my uncomfortable seat, picked at a string on my shirt; anything to keep from having to talk to her.

She sensed how unwilling I was.

"Mr. Iero? Don't you want me to help you?"

"No. I don't want your help. I just want Emerson back!" I couldn't control the rage in my voice.

Mrs. Cooper looked at me through narrow eyes before scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

"You may go now," she said in her hard cold voice as she handed the paper to me.

As I walked out of her office I looked down at the paper in my hand. It was a prescription. A prescription for antidepressants.

I stood there staring at it.

I am not depressed; I don't need those. I am not depressed. I am not depressed. I am not depressed. That's a lie. It's like saying that I don't love Emerson Hunter.

But today I'm wasting away, for today is on my mind
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