Author's Note

Here is your second chapter of the week...and yes I know it's late and for that I am sorry but real life has been a bitch over in the world of Lovestrong…but we are beginning to get there.

Jill, Sarah and Charlotte…Thank you, as always you girls have helped me this week, I could not do this without you…you lot keep me sane.

Now for the formalities…I don't own Twilight, or the characters….but Lovestrong is all mine…Mwhahahahahahaha!


Lovestrong

Chapter 11- Home at last

EPOV

Putting the rest of my belongings into my bag feels incredible-the last time I did this, I was leaving rehab, and I felt nothing but nervous… I was scared shitless. This time, it's different… I can't wait to get home. I have spent the last few weeks at The Retreat, a small, privately run sober-living home for people with all kinds of addictions and disorders; it's been my escape and salvation. Garrett first told me about this place when I was getting ready to leave rehab, but at the time, all I wanted to do was go home-back to Forks…back to my family. It didn't matter what state my mind was in-I was clean, and that's all I cared about. Turns out I should have worried more about my mental health.

The staff here are great; they don't push me to talk…after all, that's still Garrett's job. They have helped me channel my energy and stress into things that I appreciate and are safe… I am once again enjoying the simple things in life: being able to sit and simply draw, or make a piece of stained glass art. I have even sat in on yoga, meditation, and healthy-cooking classes! It's been more like a spa than a mental health care facility.

At first I wasn't interested in coming here, but Garrett had basically told me to pull myself and my stuff together and come with him, or he would have me re-sectioned as a threat to myself and packed off back to the Rehabilitation Unit in Seattle…easy choice. So I packed, left a short note begging forgiveness and the wish for them to take care of Mallow, and made a leap of faith.

For a few weeks now, I have had no contact with the outside world. I have been at The Retreat for nearly four weeks, and if I am honest with myself…I feel great, better than ever. In my time here, I have realised a few things about myself: things that I couldn't have realized without Garrett's wisdom, Alice's interfering and Bella…without Bella's brutal honesty, I really don't think I would have come to this point. She got her closure, and now it's my turn… but it's not an ending that I am looking for, it's peace…and more importantly, it's a future for myself…with our without Bella.


The feel of her lips on my cheek still burns…her words bounce around my brain: "I can forgive you, Edward, but I cannot forget, and I will carry around the scars of your fucked-up choices and mistakes forever… so goodbye, Edward."

After calling Alice, I withdrew back into myself-it was hard to even function…I was so hoping she would bring Garrett, because it was him I needed, but Alice's was the first number in my cell phone so I was relying on Alice to call him. She didn't let me down; Garrett was the only one that could help at that point, because I was too far gone; I needed out of Forks, I needed to be away from all the rejection and pain…even if it was the truth.

Garrett didn't even need me to tell him what I needed, he just knew. I didn't even know what he was saying to me, both his and Alice's voices blurred into one, and every sound was an echo; I couldn't distinguish a human voice from the soft hum of the traffic down the street or Mal's soothing purr…it was all a massive clot of noise. When Garrett told me he needed to get me away from there, all I could do was respond with a nod…I didn't care where I went, as long as it didn't hurt anymore. Looking back, I know that I was almost guaranteed a relapse if I had stayed in Forks.

I can vaguely remember Alice getting me a bottle of water, then saying she would be back shortly…and that's when Garrett sprang into action. As soon as Alice had left the apartment, Garrett grabbed my old duffel bag from the closet and started throwing clothes into it…his big rush confused me, until he explained his reasoning later that night. He knew I needed space and structure, and there was no way I could get that in Forks. He knew he had no other option but to get me somewhere safe, but he was torn; the therapist in him told him it wasn't rational for us to just leave, but for the first time in our 'relationship' he was acting as my friend-he was getting me out of an unbearable situation, and he was doing it as fast as he could. If he had waited to explain our trip to Alice and my family, it may have been too late-he knew I was a flight risk…once a drug addict, always a drug addict.

My brain and body had begun to shut down, and the heightened stress and shock was sending me back to five years ago...the need to be numb was quickly creeping in…and the fastest way was to score some drugs…any drugs. It's the only thing that would make me forget. Garrett knew this all to well-at the end of the day, the statistics screamed for themselves: I was more likely to relapse then, more than ever. So he packed me up and we left…fast.

I don't really remember leaving the apartment, but God…how my chest hurt. Bella was gone; I had deserted my family…again, and I felt lost-back to square one. Thank God Garrett was there; he gave me a mixture of my medication that seemed to ease my anxiety somewhat, and never stopped talking to me. That night, we sat and talked for hours, mainly about Bella and how I felt about her being back, and how her leaving had sent me spiralling into a panic. I had to be honest with Garrett…I have never felt so alone, and even though I was the healthiest-the cleanest I had been in five years-it felt like all the pain, all the anxiety was slowly uncovering the well-hidden drug addict in me.

Telling Garrett how close I was to just heading out and getting smashed was a shock to both him and me, and his worries about me relapsing were coming true, but that's how I felt: it was my easy way out. In the end, Garrett made me look at all the pros and cons in my life since I became drug free. But as he went on, he kept bringing Bella up, and there lay the flaw in his plan: I needed her, but she was never on the 'pro' list. She had made herself really fucking clear about that.

We were going around in circles: I couldn't see my future without Bella and Bella was never going to be in my future, and that was when Garrett snapped, his last ounce of patience gone.

"How do you think Bella would ever be able to look at you again…you're a wreck, you ass!" Garrett barked out. As soon as he said this, you could see his composure return, and he was back in professional mode and apologising for his momentary slip. Then he moved on to Alice and the part she had played in all of this-now, I knew she was only doing what she thought was best, but… I wish she could just keep her nose out of my business.

But in the end, it always came back to Bella. She was my weakness and strength all rolled into one, the one single person could both make and break me. But my life couldn't be just about her; I had to be able to control my mind and spirit so that it was me, and only me that held the keys to my future and my sobriety, not her.

Garrett was right. He said Bella was a trigger, and just like it did when I was in rehab, the mere mention of her in our conversation was getting the ball rolling-helping me get back on the road to sorting my life out. He used her against me-very effective, but fucked up reverse psychology. I was a fucking mess; I had built a poor constructed wall, holding in my emotional bullshit baggage, and there was only so much shit I could deal with before the wall came tumbling down. And here I thought I was doing so well. Denial is not just a river in Egypt, eh, dumbass?

Garrett told me about a privately run centre, The Retreat-it was the same place he wanted me to go to when I was discharged from rehab all those months ago but now he was pushing harder-told me I had to take responsibility for my addiction and illness, or I would never be free from this torment. What he said made sense, but all I wanted to do was forget; no way did I want to deal with strangers asking me about her, it was bad enough telling Garrett. At first I was not sold on the idea, this place couldn't do anymore for me than Garrett could…or so I thought.

So the next morning we set off early…we had a bit of a drive ahead of us, and Garrett wanted to get there before lunch. I couldn't stop worrying about all kinds of things. My family was at the forefront of my mind, but Garrett told me to stop worrying, he would deal with it. My little Marshmallow was another, and I tried to use him as an excuse to turn around and go home. I hadn't been without my buddy in the last year, and I was afraid he, too, would think I was abandoning him. Garrett reminded me that everyone adored my cat, and he would be cared for like the little prince he was.

Being on my own was another massive concern for me; I could not handle being alone with strangers right now, but once again Garrett supplied an answer: before I could change my mind, he said he could stay a week or so with me-he had a feeling I would need him anyway…I don't open up well to strangers. He said he would pass his other patients off on a colleague as soon as we got to the centre. He was all mine…whether I wanted him or not.

We had been on the road for a few hours when the scenery outside started to change, become more built up, and it didn't take long for the skyline of Seattle to come into view. Driving through the city was an odd feeling; I was even closer to Bella here than I was if I were back in Forks. All I could do was watch out of my window and stare at the people passing by…I wonder if she passed through here on her way home yesterday?... was all I kept on thinking to myself. A lot of our time on the road was filled with us talking-Garrett asking if I was okay, if I needed anything…anyone would have thought he was my mother. Closing my eyes, it was easy to drift into a sleep like state, because of Garrett's constant drone, the anti-anxiety drugs, and the lack of shut-eye in the past twenty-fours.

I was brought back awake by the changed pace of the car and a jab by Garrett's elbow to the ribs. As I looked up, I was stunned by my surroundings. It was clear that we had travelled a fair way out of the city; there was green all around, and we were driving up a long driveway, which was lined by trees. I was so freaked out that this place was going to look like a hospital, or worse, a jail, but I was so wrong. We approached a large house, that I can only describe as being from one of those English drama's you see on TV. It's grand, double-fronted, and so not my style at all, but Garrett seemed to think it would help me…yeah…still wasn't convinced.

We were met by a tall, dark-haired woman who introduced herself as Dr. Angela Webber. She seemed nice; she explained that she would oversee my admission, and she would complete my assessment, but she wasn't able to be here for the whole of my stay, but I would see her from time to time. Which was fine by me-I still wasn't convinced about being here, but again, Garrett was adamant that I give it a go. I was shown my room which over looked the gardens, and was told to meet Dr. Webber in her office when I had settled in.

Garrett had given me some space to unpack-he was, no doubt, letting the staff here know about my history; I know he had referred me here in the past, but they needed an update about my most recent issues, no doubt. Dr. Webber was every bit as nice as I had thought, maybe a little too much. We handled all the paper work; she asked me a few questions about home, and my family, but nothing too in-depth. She and Garrett started discussing my clinical and medical history…I just zoned out, wondering what Bella was up to, looking out of the window. The afternoon had turned dull, turning to twilight, and I could just imagine sitting in these gardens staring up at the stars…rubbing tiny circles into my forearm, over my star tattoo. My thoughts were interrupted by Dr. Webber.

"What does the tattoo mean to you, Edward?"

"Home…" I mutter the word, and my brain does a three-sixty; shit, it's all so clear, I need to get my head straight. Prove to myself, and everyone else, that I am okay, that I can cope with all of this and be man enough to see Bella as a friend. I know even that may take some time, but I have to try…we both have so much left to say, and I know deep down that it's not over between us…but I have to work on me, before I can get back 'home'.

"Okay Edward, so home is… your family?"

"Yeah…my family, and my soul mate, even my damn cat…but for now, let's just say its home."

Looking over at Garrett, his eyebrows arch and a small smile appears on his face, but before he can say a thing, I take the lead. "Right…let's see what this place can do for me."

Dr. Webber explained about all the Retreat's amenities: all the group sessions, the one-to-one therapy, and the activities they had here. She told me I would be expected to have a one-to-one session twice a week to talk over how I was feeling, and if I wanted it to be with Garrett, it could be; she wanted to see me in two weeks. Normally, as Director of the facility, she would have seen me later this week, but as I had Garrett and she was needed back in Seattle, some emergency, a client she had seen for a few years needed her; she would wait until see was back at The Retreat to catch up with me. She talked me through some of the group sessions she thought I would like-there were traditional talk therapies, but there were also some awesome alternative therapies available, which made The Retreat so much more than a sober living or mental health home.

After reading through my file, she had decided that art therapy would benefit me; residents had multiple opportunities to use art therapeutically, in daily group sessions, or I could decide to do individual therapy sessions with an art therapist. She directed me to the spacious, dedicated art room that The Retreat had available for residents to use after hours so they could finish the projects they started; I was required to sleep at least eight hours a night, she stressed… I had become lax in making sure that I had enough healthy sleep.

Garrett must have told Dr. Webber that I loved doing all kinds of art when I was in the rehab centre and at home, because her whole program was tailored to my love of art. I was starting to think I may even enjoy being here. She also talked me into a beginning yoga class…she said that it might help me channel my stress, and I thought, What the hell, anything is better than the devastating panic attacks I have now.

My first week was full of daily art sessions, where I meet a few new people, all with mental health and/or addiction problems…and to my surprise, I started to open up to them; we shared our pasts and our worries for the future. Garrett encouraged me to meet new people and open up to the staff, too, as I was here to deal with my state of mind and keep my body healthy and everyone here wanted to help me.

After my first session with Garrett, I saw my life from his point of view: yes, I was dealing with my drug addiction…I was hanging on to my sobriety by a thread, but I had never actually faced my mental health problems, which, as of a week ago, were on the breaking point. As the days went by, I was slowly getting to a healthier place; it stopped being about Bella and started being about me. Garrett kept reminding me that now it was my turn to think of me, and no one else.

At the start of the second week, I went in to my first 'dual therapy session; the staff here believed that if I spoke about my drug addiction, it would help my mental health, as both conditions went hand in hand…one lead to the other.

Garrett convinced me that my past issues with depression and panic had led to much of my drug use. He believed that talking about the issues that had triggered my addiction would help me to get a tighter hold on my current mental health…if not, I was at risk of replacing drugs with other dangerous behaviour to deal with my depression. The long-term goal was to get off my medication, but until I was able to learn healthy coping skills, that wasn't going to happen. The session was used to assess the nature of my relationship with drugs, and to educate and motivate me along the path to recovery from problems associated with substance use.

We worked out that my inability to forgive myself for everything I put my family and Bella through five years ago was a massive trigger for my depression. I felt that I was a monster, and that I had to suffer for the rest of my life to make amends. I worked though my feelings, talking with Garrett and the other staff about my drug use, and it helped me to see how far I had come in my recovery. It made me finally think about my future, and how much brighter it was now I wasn't dependant on drugs. If I could beat addiction, I could beat the depression. They were both illnesses that never went away, but I COULD learn to live with them day by day. I finished my session with happy, cleansing tears that were shared by Garrett…for the first time, I was hopeful about my future.

Later that same day Maggie, one of the art therapists, asked me if I wanted to try my hand at glass work-and I jumped at the chance… I had done some mosaic work at home, but had never tried actual stained glass work. I had talked with another resident earlier that day-Ray had been an Alcoholic for years, and he had suffered a breakdown after the failure of his marriage. This was his second time at The Retreat after a long stint in rehab, and he was hopeful this time.

He took an interest in my tattoo, showing me one he had on his leg: a phoenix, which for him symbolised his recovery from his addiction to alcohol. The remembered story of the Phoenix, a legendary mythological bird which crashed to the earth, only to rise from the ashes, renewed and beautiful, symbolized my fight, too. So when I went into the class, I had the idea firmly set in my mind: I would make a stained glass picture of the phoenix, and I would take it home with me, a reminder of the day I realized I could get better, and move on with a healthy, happy life.

Selecting and placing the old pieces of glass was really revealing-I thought I knew what my problems were and whose fault it was, but my perspective had now changed. It helped me start understanding that my drug use was a symptom of my mental health, and I had to get it under control. Art in general helped me to find myself and lose myself all at the same time; I could express myself without using words, because talking about my issues was draining. Learning the art of soldering and beading from Maggie was symbolic; I was taking the old fragments of myself and joining them back together, and the new joints were stronger, brighter than the old parts.

It wasn't easy. My fingers were covered in burns and cuts, and many times I would cuss long and loud when I broke a joint, or a perfect piece of glass, right as I was about to finish. I had never learned patience…man, did stained glass teach it to me! I also learned that the cuts and burns would heal, and that often, the second piece of glass that I used was actually better than the first…I just hadn't seen it at the time. The art opened my eyes to who I had become, and I kinda liked the new me.

That was the catalyst. I no longer saw The Retreat as a rehab… I saw it as a place to learn all that I could about myself. I went on long hikes in the surrounding woods, worked out and swam in the indoor pool, took a few healthy cooking classes that the first class chefs there offered to its clients. I even threw myself into the yoga classes; they really weren't for me, but it was relaxing and a place to gather my thoughts. It made me realize that I would like to learn some type of meditation to deal with my stress.

At the start of the third week, I discussed my progress with Garrett, who was so happy. By coming here, I had opened my mind up to the fact that I had to get better for me and no one else AND that I deserved some happiness in my life. We were once again joined by Dr. Webber, who apologized for not seeing me earlier in my stay; her help was required in Seattle longer than she thought. Dr. Webber had asked me how I had found the last couple of weeks, and if my outlook had changed since being here.

My answer was simple: I loved it here. The art classes had really helped, and the setting for this beautiful home was all I need to get inspired…sitting in the gardens at night was so peaceful; I told Dr. Webber that sometimes I was joined by other residents, and we would just sit in silence watching the night sky, but then other nights I would sit alone, just like I used to in rehab, thinking about my home and the events that led up to me coming here.

I really didn't want to bring up Bella by name, but Dr. Webber knew there was someone, who had been part of the reason that I had cracked, leading Garrett to force me to get more help. I was looking down a lot when speaking to Dr. Webber, only looking at her every so often; she was jotting down notes anyway, but a couple of times I would see her watching me as if she knew the other side of my story…it was just strange, but I put it down to the fact she was a specialist in dual therapies.

Garrett had to get back to Forks for a few days, not to mention he had to explain to my Mother and family where I had been. I was worried they would be pissed off at me, that was the last thing I wanted; I was worried about Mallow, too… but Garrett told me not to stress-they would understand, and at the end of the day, I was a fully grown adult who needed help, and it was up to me to do what I needed, so I could get better. We touched on the fact that my family, but particularly Alice, had not given me the chance to lead my life and it had not helped me to develop a healthy adult life when I got home from the hospital.

As the days passed, I continued to work on the phoenix glass; it was turning out to be amazing, especially for my first piece. I used all different shades and textures of glass, from reds to blues and blacks to oranges-Maggie helped me pick up the techniques of cutting the glass, using a wheel cutter to mark the glass then pliers to make the break, and using the small soldering gun to curve and melt the lead. Joining all the pieces together was my favourite part; turning old battered junk, into a new work of art, full of splendour, was something I was proud of...art imitating life…my life. Maggie told me she had never seen someone pick up this difficult art so easily…she said I was somewhat of a prodigy. I blushed when she proudly told me that I was the best student she had ever had.

Maggie also took our time in class as a way of pushing me to open up about my past love life, about Bella…never once did she ask me to name her, she just asked me my thoughts on where my head was at now… I found it easy after all the time I had spent with her to put my feelings into words.

"My biggest fear at the moment is going back home, and watching all my family and friends doing well, being happy with their spouses, while I am alone, and still on the mend…I am worried that it will push me backwards, mentally. I want what they have."

Maggie's response made me smile; she reminded me of someone…if I didn't know any better, I would say Rosalie was right here with me.

"Edward, chances come from change; you've got to find some courage before you go back home, you need to learn that nobody's going to help someone who won't change… It's time for you to be brave and go get what you want."

And there it was, just a couple of sentences, which summed up what I needed to do. It was time to go back home, live my new brave life, and right my wrongs.

And I knew exactly where I needed to start…


Closing my bedroom door one last time, I have already decided that in the future, I will come back here on a regular basis, just to remind myself that I had to take care of me first. Maybe I will get to bring someone with me, show them how amazing this place is, and it was where I realised I had to start living for me and I deserved to be happy… whether it could or would be Bella, I don't know right now, but who knows?

I had carefully packed up my stained glass supplies and my completed phoenix piece; Garrett had arrived about half an hour ago and already had put most of my things in his car-I had collected a lot of 'junk' while I was here, but I wasn't leaving any of it. Like my life, what looked like junk could turn into the most beautiful art.

On my way downstairs I pushed open the Art room, to see Maggie. She was at her desk, drawing. Clearing my throat, I interrupted her to say goodbye… "Maggie, see you soon I hope…oh, and thanks for everything you taught me. I can't tell you how much…."

She didn't look up from her work. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed me, "Bye, Edward."

As I backed out of the door, she called out "Oh, and Edward? Don't forget be brave….and I hope you find your way back home." A small smirk danced across her face, as if she was teasing me…she knew I had a place in this world, I just had to prove it to myself, and everyone else.

Walking down the large staircase I couldn't help but smile: things were starting to look up. I had a few more friends to win back, but I was determined… I would let fate have her turn. My eyes met Garrett, waiting at the bottom, and he had the same smirk on his face that Maggie did; he knew this was my fresh start, and I was happily going to start living in this world again.

Of course, Dr. Webber was there talking to Garrett, and as I got to the bottom of the stairs, she gave me that odd...knowing look again…what is she, a mind reader? I feel like she can see inside my head.

"Goodbye, Edward…I know I will see you soon!" Why did that sound like a threat…? Reaching out to shake my hand, I returned the gesture gratefully but quickly; I was ready to go home…this was my new beginning.

"Yeah, bye…Dr. Webber. Thanks for everything."

As we headed toward the front door, Garrett stopped to find his car keys, and Dr. Webber turned around and looked at me.

"Oh, and Edward…call me Angela!" she shouted over her shoulder, closing the door as she entered her office.

Weird…

Garrett was already outside so I had to rush down the steps to catch up. I heard the beep of his car lock opening, and found he had already opened the back door of the car. I threw my bag inside and turned around, taking in my surrounds for one final time. Garrett was getting impatient, and he rolled down the window to get my attention.

"Come on…let's get going Edward!"

"Chill…G…What's the rush?"

"Your sister…Alice will kill me if we don't get back home in time. Emmett and Rose are having a party to celebrate the garage opening…she said to tell you she left some clothes on your bed… she will be waiting for you at the beach. Oh, and Edward? She said to tell you Mallow has missed you almost as much as she has."

Oh Hell. Guess I get to be brave sooner than I thought.

I jumped in the front seat. I was going home.


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