Chapter 3

Dr. Steve Evans was how he introduced himself as and then he told me to have a sit. We didn't do much that meeting, just do a little bit of opening up by talking about the basics as to the reason behind why I was here and my thoughts about the whole situation. He was a man with dark chocolate brown eyes which seemed to express sympathy and understanding in one go.

He was quite tall, maybe about 5 foot 11 inches and even though I was 5 foot 9 inches, he loved looking down at me like I was a little kid who had lost her parents in a shopping mall. I told him the very first day never to look down at me like that, but I think he pursued the matter even more because of my great dislike towards it.

Just before the official meeting started, he pulled out a pair of spectacles and put them on. And from that moment on, I found myself sitting in that surprisingly bright room every Thursday morning for an hour. Sometimes, I found that he wore the glasses, other times he didn't during one of the meetings, I just had to ask why this was so. And he answered with a small smile that he felt the spectacles made him seem more like a psychiatrist but it held no power. This confession was followed by a wink as if to say, this is our very own secret.

In all honesty, I thought going to therapy would be a waste of time but I found myself cautiously opening up about all my insecurities, the difficult family life at home and eventually, the delicate topic of the guilt and sadness I felt since Jason's accident. I also found myself opening up and letting in my friends and family slowly because I knew that they had been trying to help ease the pain all this while. Deep down I had known all along that I was treating them poorly for a matter that I was struggling with deep down.

I didn't even know why I actually snapped at my loved ones like that. Maybe it was because I was jealous that they could so easily find a way to cope with the loss of Jason while I seemed to be bound to the same place with nowhere to turn to. It was definitely a heartbreaking process which involved a lot of tears and tissues, not only from my end but also my friends and family members' but in the end, I had to admit, that the whole process of opening up about the made me feel that I could move on.

The burden of the guilt that I had carried for those two years decreased breathtakingly and although, my sorrow for such a precious loss was still there, and I'm sure no one could tell me that I would ever be able to completely let go of Jason. However, I learnt how to deal with it in a more effective way. This is namely a passion that had started well before Jason died, and that was singing and song writing.

There is a slow murmuring nearby and then I feel someone shaking me awake. Startled, I sit up to find myself in my bedroom looking at my mother who was saying something. I realised that I must have woken up and found myself thinking back to Jason, it had been happening a lot since I started recovering as Dr. Evans called it.

Staring at her lips moving with none of the sound entering my ears, she must have been talking in an impatient manner as her hand gestures seemed to be suggesting. What could have been the reason for that? I stared at her in the most amazed way for a little while she continued her wild gesturing. Finally, I looked at my clock and found that it was 7.30 already and if I did not get my butt off the bed fast, I was going to be super late for my first day of college.

I jumped out of bed, which seemed to startle my mother, and followed her out and went straight to the bathroom to freshen myself up as much as I could, followed by a prompt change of clothes which basically meant getting my hands on the things closest to me. Seeing my dad in a rush as well, I followed him out and into our car to set off to start a new chapter in my life.