Group Sessions

I remember how the first week with Kevin was a huge blur of destructive behavior. We feed into each other’s unhealthy habits. We would spend hours cutting together and drinking till late. Kevin and I weren't helping each other get better; in fact I think I was getting worse. I had cut everyday that week with Kevin and I don’t just mean just my skin, classes too. Classes I was forced to take by my parents to learn to socialize, which were held at the local hospital. A part of me wanted so badly to get some kind of grip and progress going. Another part of me wanted to drown with Kevin. When we had been dating for a month everyone was well aware the self destructive couple that we were.

I was sitting in his living room; Kevin not only managed to get a job, but also managed to move out of his parent’s house since we got together. I thought that this was a sign of some form of progress on his part. This progress of course made me happy and want even more to do something with myself. Now, Kevin and I didn't move slow; in fact we exchanged I love yous, two days before our month mark. Kevin said it when he was drunk, I said because I was intoxicated off of him. Looking back though, I am sure I loved him, maybe I still do. So I sat Indian style on his living room floor, a kit of razors and essentials in front of me. Every week we would retrace the letters on our skin to make sure they scar permanently. He sat crossed legged across from me, his blue eyes hazed over from the liquor he had consumed. The smell of hard liquor heavy in his whole house, since he now worked as a bartender (and he was still a drunk).

“Ready baby?” He slurred while grabbing his favorite blade.

“Of course,” I eyed him wearily; tired from the argument I had with my parents before I got here.

“Don’t worry,” he leaned in and kissed me, “this will make you forget your pesky problems.”

The razor kissed my skin and I felt joy course through my body. It filled up every crevice of my being and Kevin held me as I let the emotions ride out. He placed his wrist in my hand when it was his turn, kissing my neck as I cut into his skin. His body shuddered as he encouraged me to cut deeper. I could never say no to him in the beginning, even when I should have. Kevin and I smiled as we stared at our fresh wounds, matching scars became our trademark. Kevin thought every couple should be doing it. We sat on the floor with him embracing me for a few minutes. The silence in the room was ironically deafening. We were both aware that we had group today, the second round of sessions would be starting. We both agreed to go, hoping it would be more enjoyable now that we are a couple.

I zipped up one of Kevin’s tattered hoodies as we walked hand and hand to the town’s center. We got the usual glances and dirty looks, some people even walked briskly the other way when we neared. This never bothered Kevin one bit, but it was slowly starting to get to me. I wasn't sure why I was even letting the normals get to me at all. Kevin pulled up my hood when we walked through the session’s room doors and gave me his famous smile. I shook the silly thoughts out of my head and walked towards our usually seats. Unfortunately, no one else changed seats either, which means Jenny was waiting for Kevin like a lap dog awaits a treat. I swear she growled when she saw our fingers laced together. I rolled my eyes and slumped down in my seat, my music already on and headphones in.

Kevin sat next to me and continually pressed his fingers on my wound with a devilish grin on his face. He was chatting to everyone who would come to him, his humor had made him quite popular. Kevin loved that I had his initial on my flesh; to him it was equivalent of a wedding ring. I was his and that was all there was to it. I tried to focus on song lyrics but his fingertips kept my attention on him. I watched his lips move, the movement of his jawline. I watched as he spoke with each person yet always seemed to be looking at me. I was again entranced by him when I heard the doors close marking the lead's presence. The lead walked in giving Kevin the vilest of looks before sitting in his place.

“New rules this time around, no music,” he looked at me as he said it, “and a hundred percent participation from the each of you.”

I grudgingly took off my headphones, just so the creep with his fake smile, could stop looking at me. I did my best to hide my disgust but I was sure that I was failing. Kevin’s was all out glaring at him, the lead started to squirm in his seat, adjusting his collar under the scrutiny. Kevin gave my hand a supportive squeeze, and spared an assuring glance for me before resuming to glare. The lead proceeded with his new set of rules, which everyone seemed to hate. It was like he tailored these rules to increase the torture for each person who was reluctantly attended these sessions. He clapped his hands together when he was done and gave us a big smile. He stated that he was sure we would all make significant progress this time around. Then he announced we would start with ice breakers, as if a two week break caused us to forget all about each other.

He went first, blabbing how about once upon a time eons ago, a group like this saved his life. He talked about his struggles with drug abuse, arson and self hatred. He told us he got into this profession to help people recover and begin to truly live as someone once helped him. The group gave a pathetic round of applause before we moved on to the next person. I tuned out the slew of stories I had heard last time and while trying to pick up on any new details. Kevin would whisper cruel jokes in my ears after each story; I would stifle laughter with my hand. The lead either didn’t notice or attempted to ignore us. Before we knew it, it was Kevin’s turn.

“Hi I am Kevin. I am still 22 years old. I love my bottle, my razor and my girl.” He winked at me and continued. “The only thing that has changed is my address, occupation, and relationship status. I am no longer merely taken, I am practically engaged.”

He sat down, my throat felt dry with his words. Engaged, uh no, not after a month dating and only like four months of even knowing each other. I wish I could say that’s why my throat seemed to dry out with his words, but it was because I loved the idea. I loved being Kevin’s fiancé instead of some mere girlfriend. I was crazy enough to think that his words were not insane, but a brilliant idea. I got up, scared by my own foolish thinking and the thought of saying anything to these people.

“My name is Lisa. I am 20 years old. I hate people, television and pretty much everything else. I still live at home but after I marry Kevin I plan on crashing at his place for the rest of his life. Oh and I am indeed still crazy.”

The rest of the session was a haze; all I could hear was Kevin’s words. The very words I was dumb enough to go along with. I felt Jenny’s burning holes in the side of my head with her eyes the whole session. Which I found hysterical. Kevin kissed me on the hand, cheek, and shoulder whenever the lead wasn't looking. But it was all background noise to the strange hum of emotions that filled me. It was like the hum to a very beautiful song that only I could hear. The hum would increase every time Kevin's lips came in contact with me. I knew that he was the song my emotions were singing. He was the reason. To this day I still wonder if I will ever get that wondrous hum back.