Chapter 27

The Longer List

Present Day

2029

Ever since I cried my heart's burdens to Doc Daisy, the weight on my shoulders seemed lighter to bear.

Two months had passed since my first therapy session and I was beginning to get used to the idea of opening up to people. Yes, there had been moments when I was reserved in expressing my feelings, but the more I shared, the more I felt like I was not alone. Or maybe, I was never alone.

My biweekly therapy sessions had been very helpful and when I came home, Mom was always there to talk to me. She asked less about my therapy sessions but talked about other things. We talked about Willow, the movies, and favorite songs. We talked about anything under the sun and just for a while, my lips would stretch out to a sincere smile.

"Mommy, look! Look at the pictures!" My daughter was on my lap and showing me her Grandma's phone. These were happy images of her in Long Island. Christian took Willow to a weekend getaway. Mom was there too, along with Taylor, Gail, and their daughter, Sophie.

"You look so gorgeous here, Sweetie," I said while pressing a kiss against her cheek.

"The water so blue, Mommy. I thought I was a mermaid!"

"Oh, you are a mermaid!" I exclaimed and she giggled.

I told them I wanted time for myself and to spend some time with Elizabeth and Hannah since I missed them. Of course, the main reason why I did not come along was because I couldn't bear to be with Christian.

Willow flashed a photo of her and Christian smiling by the shore, water up to their ankles. I couldn't help but feel a pang of pain. Ever since I recalled all the things he said to me, the throbbing pain just kept on coming back. His vile words echoed in my head and I was so scared to even be in the same room as he is.

"Will you come to my recital too, Mommy? Daddy will be there! I'm gonna show him to my classmates," Willow sounded like she couldn't wait for the event next week. I knew that she had been picked on because she didn't have Christian back then. Who was I to stop this moment and declare that Christian must not come?

"That's great, Sweetie. Mommy won't be there but at least, Daddy will be," I gave her an apologetic smile and her eyes turned sad for a second, but she quickly smiled and said that it's okay to only have Christian and her Grandma with her.

I thought maybe I was too immature, but no, I was just deeply hurt.

-page break-

My therapy session is in every two weeks and this was one of the days when I stripped off of my thickest skin and had my vulnerabilities exposed to Doc Daisy. For some reason, it was oddly comforting to have someone know every angle of your thoughts and feelings, although this person's practically a stranger to you.

"How have you been doing, Ana?"

"Doc, I'm doing okay. Just spending my days in our house, reading a book, sleeping, jogging, and just trying to be . . . fine," I sounded unsure.

She nodded, "Have you taken your meds?"

"I've taken them religiously, Doc, but I don't think they're working," I told her honestly.

"Ana, I am glad that you have been taking the prescribed medicines, you've had support from family and friends, and I am also glad that you do not bail on your sessions with me, however, I think there's something lacking here," she said softly.

"What?" I asked.

"You, Ana. We cannot succeed here if you won't work on it too," she said.

"I thought the meds would be fine and—"

She interrupted with a calming voice, "Just as there are many factors as to why you got depressed, there are also many factors to get you into healing. One of those biggest factors is when you work on yourself. Tell me, what's hindering you?"

I told her, "I am afraid to lose again. I am afraid to be rejected again. Doc, I can't seem to find an effort to pursue my dreams again because I am so afraid that I cannot take it when I fail."

"Dear, fear is deceiving but it could never be trusted. Fear is a liar, Ana—a powerful one."

I just stared at her.

"Now tell me, what is the dream?"

"I want to go to school again, graduate, and build a career," I said.

"I don't think you'll be rejected. There are schools who will definitely accept—"

"Doc, I am 32. All of my classmates will be much younger and my teacher could be the same age as me. I will feel like a failure," I almost whispered.

"Let me tell you what, Ana: Comparison is a thief of happiness. Wherever you are and whatever you, as long as you compare yourself to others, then you'll never be happy. The truth is there is always going to be someone who is better than us, but it doesn't shape who we are. We all have our owns paths to take and not all footprints are the same so there's no need to compare yourself to others."

The way Doc Daisy said it was comforting. She didn't sound like she was reprimanding me. It was almost as if she's saying that I was good enough. She said it in such a motherly way that I almost wanted to cry.

She took advantage of the silence when she counselled, "Ana, don't trust your fears but place your faith in yourself instead. I know it's easier said than done. But, we're here for you so you must be there for yourself too."

Since my life fell apart, I lived day by day as if it were only a routine. I was dead inside and only tried to get up every day for Willow. Doc Daisy was right. I was putting so much faith in my fears that I forgot to trust and love myself.

"So, you took up Journalism, right?"

I nodded.

"Now, I got a little homework for you. Just to prep you up when you go back to college. Can you buy a notebook and write every single day on it? Each page will be for each day. Create two columns on each page. On the left side, make a list about all the things that are negative—your fears, your doubts, everything that gets you down. Each thought that pulls you back. Then on the right, write all of the good things-all the small good things, write it all down. You'll be surprised on which column has the longer list."

-page break-

After my therapy session, I went out of the hospital and cursed under my breath and it was raining like crazy. Thunder growled above as if the sky was bitter about the summer. I sighed. It was supposed to be summer, right? The rain seemed unstoppable though.

Now that Christian was around, the expenses were not that heavy anymore. I was able to receive my back pay and it was enough to buy a cheap car.

The carpark was full so I had to park in front of the grocery store which was a block away from the hospital.

I was ready to forge ahead and run so fast underneath the strong rain, but before even taking the next step, I felt an umbrella above me. I looked to my right and there was Christian in his lab gown offering me a shy smile.

"Hi," he breathed.

"Hello," I said with no energy.

He cleared his throat and said, "I'm on a really quick break right now and headed to the grocery store. I could walk you to your car."

"Oh, there's no need. I'll just walk and—"

"I insist. You'll get sick under this rain," he sounded concern. Of course, he was. He's a doctor after all.

"Okay then," I rolled my eyes and let him walk me to my car.

"Where's your car parked?"

"Right in front of the grocery store," I said curtly.

"That's good. We're headed in one direction then," he said.

He held the umbrella for the both of us and since the rain was too strong, I found myself pressing closer to him in order to avoid to get wet. I could feel his body warmth radiate and I hated how after all these years, I could still recognize his scent.

"So, how's the therapy going?"

"Good," I answered uninterested.

"Doc Daisy's treating you well?"

"Yes," I said. I was glad that he didn't have any idea about our therapy sessions. This just proved that even though he and Doc Daisy knew each other well, she never dared to disclose any details about our sessions.

"Are you going to Willow's recital next week?"

"No," I gave him a one word answer again.

He paused on his tracks, stopped walking, and turned to face me. He still held the umbrella to make sure that I didn't get wet. He was partially getting soaked though.

I knew that look in his eyes. Eight years of being together made me know his gray eyes all too well. He wanted to tell me to talk to him, to open up to him, and to communicate with him. But, he didn't have any right or any claim on me anymore.

Instead, Christian breathed, "I know you've been avoiding me."

"And why am I avoiding you?"

"You know why," he almost whispered and he sounded . . . regretful, shameful.

I was tongue tied.

He said, "Look, Willow would like you to be there. If you don't want me around, then I won't go."

"No, Christian, you go. Willow already anticipates you to be there and she's been excited to show you to her classmates. Please, you go," I pleaded.

Christian took a deep breath and conceded.

"Here we are," I said as I stood by my new but old car. The atmosphere was very awkward. Christian and I stood next to each other with an umbrella overhead, and the rain pouring down.

"Thanks for the umbrella," I was courteous enough to thank him.

"Yeah. I better go back," he said.

I raised my brow, "What? I thought you're going to buy something from the grocery store?"

"I was not. I know you always forget your umbrella so I had to make sure," he told me before looking away. I didn't say anything then and just went inside my car. From the rearview mirror, I saw him standing still.

My hands held on to the steering wheel and I took a deep breath before driving away.

-page break-

I already bought a new notebook but I still can't seem to write. It's been a week since my last therapy session. I kept pacing back and forth, thinking about Doc's advice. I evaluated myself further and recognized how awful I thought about myself.

Yes, it always had something to do with my comparing myself to others and it got out of hand.

My thoughts were killing me and so did my guilt for missing out so much opportunity in spending time with my daughter when I can. I decided to pick myself up and grab my keys. I went to Willow's recital even though Christian was there.

-page break-

Willow was always a well-spoken kid. At a young age, we could see her potential in speaking in front of the public eye. Thus, we enrolled her in a summer program for kids to improve their public speaking skills. The program was for 7-12-year-old kids and I was proud of Willow for being one of their participants.

I drove to the venue and knew I was very late. Thankfully, the older kids did their presentations first.

The program was held in a wide function room and all chairs seemed to be filled. I decided to stand at the back instead.

Kids did some news reporting and they were doing well too. Parents laughed at how adorable they looked like as serious mini-newscasters. Afterwards, there were kids who stood up on a podium and delivered a 3-minute oratorical speech.

Then, my eyes widened in shock when I saw Willow lining up with probably the oldest kids. There were about 10 of them onstage and she was clearly the youngest at seven years old.

They were going to deliver an extemporaneous speech. The host informed that each participant will pick up a strip of paper from a jar and in 3 minutes, they'll have to make a 3-minute speech on the assigned topic found in the paper they picked.

Gosh, I was so nervous for Willow. My little girl was good but I was still nervous for her. The other kids did so well too with all their given topics.

When it was Willow's turn, everyone marveled at how cute she was. The production staff had to lower the microphone since she was the shortest.

"Good morning to all. My name is Willow and I am here to deliver answer this question."

She read the strip of paper, "Who do you want to be like when you grow up and why?"

I smiled. She can easily answer this. I thought she might answer a Disney princess or one of exemplary women famous for their worldwide achievements.

"It would be my mother, Anastasia Steele. I want to be like my mom when I grow up," she began. Everyone then clapped at her. While me? I couldn't even move.

"My mother has been working hard ever since before I was born. She was working hard for Grandma and for me. My mother would go to work really tired and go home really tired but she always asks me about my day and gives me toys and treats. Mommy is so strong that she never lets anybody hurt me. Like when I was five, I was almost bitten by a cute dog in the park but she stopped the dog. She got bitten instead but she still smiled even though interjections are painful."

Despite my tears, I laughed a little as I knew that she was referring to injections and not interjections.

"Then, I want to be like Mommy because she has magical powers. One time, I cried because I didn't have my own dolly and she told me we didn't have money because dolly was expensive. Then, the next week, I got my own doll! I asked her why and she told me it's magic. I asked Grandma about it and she told me that every mother has magical powers," Willow smiled at that and the crowd clapped their hands and some even nudged their wives or mom.

I remembered that week. She wanted that doll so much so I rendered an overtime in order to buy it for her.

"And, Mommy is strong. She never tells me she's tired but I know. I never tell her she's strong but I know she knows it. She reminds me of all the Disney characters I love and when I grow up, I am definitely going to be like her.

Oh, time's up. Thank you all!"

There was some laughter in the crowd when Willow took a bow but it was a laughter of adoration. She did so well for her age and I was so proud of her.

The whole time I felt as though I was struck by lightning. My daughter looked at me that way? I never imagined she would look at me in that light. For days, I managed to get up from bed and lived life as dull as it was. And the whole time, I tried to work things out for her, she saw me as someone so strong, so brave, and of the qualities of her fictional heroines.

She wanted to be like me.

Then, a spark formed in my heart. There was this sudden jolt of electricity. There was this electrifying current passing through my veins. It was lighting up, saying: I couldn't let her down. I couldn't let my little girl down.

I was too stunned to even move. I barely realized that the recital had finished. Everybody stood up and Willow was with Mom and Christian. She was wrapped in her father's arms as he kissed her over and over. I could tell from this distance that he was repeatedly telling her that he was so proud of her.

Willow's eyes found me and she screamed, "Mommy!" She broke free from Christian's tight embrace and ran to me.

I quickly wiped my tears and caught her in my arms. I lifted her up and kissed her on the forehead.

"Did you see me, Mommy? Did you hear my speech?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you," I said, trying not to cry.

"I love you, Mommy," she told me sweetly.

"I love you most," I said.

Christian stood right next to us and exclaimed, "You came!" I gave him a small smile. Like me, he was so proud of Willow.

"You guys, smile," Mom said out of nowhere.

We were caught off guard but three of us still managed to smile at the camera.

"I'm so proud of her," Christian kept saying and I agreed with him.

"Daddy, ice cream," Willow pouted.

"Let's go," He didn't even hesitate.

We went out of the hall together and Mom rubbed my back with her palms, knowing that I was still overwhelmed by Willow's answer despite my wordlessness.

I guess Moms really do have superpowers.

-page break-

Willow was sleeping soundly on my bed while I was in my study table with the lamp as bright as ever.

For the first time ever, I started with page 1. My ink marked the paper, straight from my heart.

I made two columns as Doc Daisy instructed.

My thoughts were all written on the left side of the page. All of my doubts, all of my fears, all of the bad things today, and all of the thoughts I had about myself. My insecurities were detailed one by one and all of bad fruits of comparison springing to life.

Then on the right side, I listed all the small things to be grateful for. I listed it down. There was Willow, Mom, the roof above my head, the safety within my home, the warm blanket to wrap around my body when I watch TV, the food I eat, the wind I breathe, and I even wrote about the love and happiness Christian brings for Willow.

I didn't know how long it took but I was able to finish the list for today. I paused at the sight of the page. The page was full. Both pages were long. But, the right page? It was longer.

The longer list told me that as much as there's so money things to be sad about, there's still so much more of things to be grateful for. That no matter how dark it may seem, there was a spark of light.

I found the longer list and I was firm enough to stay that step by step, little by little, I'll find my way to be happy, to rise, and to be alive again.

Thank you for reading, guys.

Sorry for the long wait. Work was pretty tough recently and I had to do some adjustment with my schedule. I'm hoping you understand.

Thank you for all of your private messages too.

Any thoughts on this chapter?

Thank you. – Cloud