Finally alone from all the voices, from the well-meaning sympathy. I wanted to be there for my kids, but I just couldn’t. Not right then.

The doctor had ushered my family out as I sank deeper into my own mind. I was inside of Elysium in a blank room. Even my body was an off-white standardized template. After that the hospitals therapist came by and I told her to leave me alone, shouted at her to leave, really. In the past, the worse a situation got, the calmer I was. But I couldn’t help Eleanor now. It was all up to the others. I couldn’t even be there to hold her hand or sing her favorite song for her.

The sun rose and set, rose and set … I lost count as I lay there, lost down unfamiliar dark paths in my mind. What now? Is Eleanor gone? How can I go on without her? She has to be okay. She’s going to be fine. But if she were fine or even if she just had a decent chance at recovery, the doctors would have told me, right? Will she remember me after such a bad crash? Who the hell were those little—No. That won’t solve anything. They don’t even deserve my anger or my attention.

FOCUS.

BREATHE.

My stomach growled as I saw a large sub appear next to me.

When was the last time I ate? Beginning of my shift? Can I still get hungry in here?

“Apologies for asking them to turn the hunger on but it’s a familiar way to have our chats, for me at least.” I jumped as the most stereotypical lumberjack ever stepped out from a door made out of pure light. He sounded a little familiar, but I was also tired of people who had no idea who I was or what I was going through trying to come in and “help.”

“What about wanting to be alone alone right now isn’t sinking in?!” I shouted. He just grinned as he checked himself over. Who does this guy think he is? I glowered at him. “And you are…?” My jaw hurt from how hard I was clenching it.

“Hey now, you don’t recognize me? This is how I always look…” He had the audacity to pretend to be insulted, with a hand on his chest and puppy dog eyes. I gave him a flat look. He dropped the pretense, shrugging. “I actually thought that would land better. I’m your long time therapist, Mr. Soriano. I believe we’ve met a few times before…” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. He had been my therapist for over fifteen years. He helped me deal with some issues and hangups, but most importantly, he was one of the few people I knew of that could get me out of a funk. There were definitely times where that meant giving me the kick in the pants I needed to get out of my own head. This was probably going to be one of those times. Well, he’s got his work cut out for him.

He took a look at me, assessing for a second.

I went back to my thoughts. I was shaking, although I was unsure whether it was from pain or anger. Soriano was always a safe space to vent, empty my thoughts, or … just rage. “If it helps, I gave one of those techies a full video scan of my office, so we can go someplace familiar.” He came over and sat next to me.

Having a familiar person nearby made me feel just comfortable enough to open up a little. “What am I supposed to do? Do I wait for her?” I started speaking faster. “I don’t think she’d want me to, though, but I don’t want to go on without her. This was supposed to be for US … Together.” At that thought, I stopped. I sat there with my nose starting to run and I could feel my eyes starting to burn. “… I guess we can try your office, can you get me some tissues …?” I mumbled.

Soriano got up and walked over to where the door had been and waved his hand through the air several times before just reaching blindly until he found a door handle that wasn’t visible a second ago. “Hey guys, can we get my office loaded? … K, how long? … Awesome. Can we get another one of those sandwiches? … Fake! You mean no calories, ha! In fact, can you send in a giant plate of chocolate or cookies with milk and stuff. Oh and some tissues?”

Turning, he closed the door with his foot as he walked back to me. In the time it took him to turn around, a plate with sandwiches, cookies, milk, and some other desserts appeared on a tray nearby. He stopped to grab the tray and brought it over to me before taking one of the sandwiches and munching on it. I stacked up four cookies onto my lap. Consolidating them into a neat column, I picked them up and with barely a pause I shoved them straight into my face in an extremely graceful way. “We aren’t in my office, so the usual thing about not eating the ‘fall apart food’ thing isn’t a problem.” A wink and a thumbs up from Soriano.

We sat in silence for a while, stuffing our faces with food. As he said, no calories. And I could use just a little bit of happiness right now.

He started back on my previous question as if no time had past. “Honestly, Jess? I don’t know what the next step is. This is new stuff, and to be frank I can only give my best therapy pioneering advice.” He took a bite, then continued, “I’m not gonna BS you, this is going to be difficult and probably very painful. I can say that your very strong, ‘bless your heart’ Southern wife would want you to move on without her. If, or when, she enters the world, I’m sure the techies can connect you two up. However, if she can’t make it for whatever reason, she would want you to continue, to try having the grand adventure you planned. The biggest thing she’d want is for you to be happy, whatever that looks like for you now.”

I didn’t know what to say in response, so I just sat quietly, pondering.

After giving me a few minutes to process, he added, “I don’t know how you feel. I can guess, but this is new shit and you’re the only one that truly knows what you’re feeling. A key point here, though, Jess, one we’ve worked on for a while now …” He paused, raised his right hand with three fingers pointing like a boy-scout.

I should process emotions, I shouldn’t stew in them. I knew the saying by heart.

“… You should process your emotions, you shouldn’t stew in them,” he said.

“I should process my emotions, I shouldn’t stew in them,” I repeated.

Soriano nodded, content enough with my response. He brushed crumbs from his shirt and allowed me to sit in silence for awhile.

“I’m glad you came, Mr. Soriano. I already yelled at their resident therapist.” I said, feeling guilty about the last half hour or however long ago it was. I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here. There aren’t any clocks and I didn’t have my phone.

He smirked. “I heard. She didn’t seem upset. She knew you were hurting and didn’t take it personally. I’m sure there will be an opportunity for you to hash it out.” Soriano shrugged.

“Sorry you won’t be able to get any more sandwiches going forwards.” I gave a half-hiccup, half-laugh as Soriano chuckled.

At some point during my first year of sessions with him, I had decided I was going to bring in packed lunches to every therapy session for a while. My schedule had been so crazy at that point that the only free time I had available was during my lunch. So I kept bringing in food, until he had made a joke about me ruining his furniture with crumbs. His wife mentioned in passing that he hardly ate at work because he’d get so caught up in helping others that he’d forget to take care of himself. That was when Eleanor started making two sandwiches and insisted I give one to him and tell him that she would tell his wife he wasn’t eating if he didn’t eat it. And he couldn’t complain about my crumbs if he was also making a mess. When Eleanor and Mrs. Soriano had chatted, Eleanor had gotten a list of his favorite foods. His wife was too happy to have someone helping her with having him eat more. He had a condition that made him lose too much weight and he inevitably would forget to eat enough, so we all pitched in. While he was a therapist and knew it wasn’t a healthy behavior, he still joked about it to make everybody comfortable around him. The hardest people to help are those who help others…

Soriano had finished his sandwich and had started on a brownie when his office drifted into being around us. After a scant few seconds, I felt like I was genuinely in his office. Every scent, every sense told me I was truly ‘present’ in his office. The only thing missing was the chirping of the birds that came out in the afternoons. Just another reminder…

HOME.

I would never be able to go home. I had passed up an opportunity to spend more time with my kids at the hospital. I dropped my head into my hands as my stomach started to churn. I curled up, hugging my knees to my chest and sobbed. Family is all I have left. And I can’t even see them now. No home, no—Zeus!

“The dog!” I shouted suddenly. He looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Soriano, you’ve gotta talk to my kids! Zeus is still at the house and prob—“

Soriano nodded and held up his hand to stop me. “Kevin already grabbed Zeus, which, by the way, is the PERFECT name for such a tiny dog, especially when he thinks he’s a huge monster—” He laughed, then continued “—But yes he is safe with your son.” Soriano chuckled to himself as he settled into his chair. I picked myself up off the floor long enough to refill on cookies before moving to the couch across from him.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I spent a couple minutes just munching on cookies and breathing like I’d learned in yoga class, which slowly got me back to a relatively calm heart rate. Yet most importantly to me, I wasn’t ugly crying … for now. I was still hurting and angry and … everything. But for right now, it was enough. When all you can do is tread water, that has to be enough.

He waited.

I waited.

We both knew he was better at waiting.

“I’m guessing you don’t know anything new about Eleanor, or you would have told me.” When he just shook his head, I sent him a sidelong glare, unearned, but I was in pain and busy unhealthily lashing out. I took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m just … It’s a lot right now. Didn’t mean it.”

“I know. No harm done.” He smiled, relaxing into the chair. “No matter how this turns out, it’s going to be a painful process. Besides, you’ve called me worse!” He let out a soft chuckle.

Normally, I’d feel guiltier about it and apologize more. I just didn’t have the energy today. One thing at a time. “If they can’t upload her, what do I do? Just go on to a … ‘happily ever after-life’ by myself?” I made heavy air quotes. “I just… I don’t even know if I WANT to go on without her. This was supposed to be the thing we did together after our anniversary. We weren’t supposed to be here for a few more weeks …” I was, by this point, halfway through the box of tissues, which felt real enough to have already rubbed my nose raw. “Honestly, why can’t they turn down the fricken roughness of the fricken tissues…” Back to ugly crying … “This is supposed to be our happily ever after!” I blew my nose once more, and this time it was as soft and smooth as oil. Well that just feels even more fake now … None of this is real. None of this matters.

Angrily I threw the tissue box on the floor. I immediately regretted my decision and leaned over to pick them back up. After grumbling a “thank you” to the techies, I went back to wallowing in my hopelessness. “If I can’t be with Eleanor… I just… I can’t. I won’t!”

I was whining, throwing a tantrum like a child. I knew it. Soriano knew it. Wasn’t gonna stop me, though.

He sighed, his lip pulling to the side. He was doing that “I’m trying to help, but this is gonna hurt” face. “Do you remember when you had that nightmare about losing Eleanor several years ago? I had you both write letters to each other saying goodbye.” I was instantly back to sobbing as he said this. I knew exactly what he was talking about. It was one of the hardest exercises I had to do. “If you want, I can ask one of your children to get it while we wait here together. Or I can go get it the next time I visit you, if you want to do visits with me in here. You need a therapist, and it seems like you have limited options, they’re allowing me since I’m your long-term therapist, or you can have the in-house therapist. Who I hear is very outgoing and bubbly.” He smirked during that last statement. I gave him my best glare, ruined by how watery it was. My mood wasn’t getting any better, either, with how my stomach and cheeks hurt from crying. Also my nose was starting to stuff up, which was just adding insult to injury.

“I guess I’d like to have the letter here. Can they like … upload or digitize it or some crap? Also, please don’t leave me with their therapist. I already yelled at them. They were sweet and professional and … I don’t like them. It’d never work. I need somebody to lock horns with. And kick my butt if I need it. They’d never do that.” One of the things I really liked about Soriano was that he never tried to do that fake “Oh I’m so sorry you’re hurting” bull. I liked Soriano giving me his ‘real’ impressions. Even if his advice could frequently hurt in the moment, I was always better off for it, like one of those targeted muscle massages.

“Speaking of a kick in the pants, do you think you can process anything else right now? Or would having a goal help clear your mind while you process some things?” Soriano asked as he cocked his head at me.

Can I process any more, right now? No. I can’t handle any more emotions right now, not mine, and especially nobody else’s.

“I … honestly I don’t think I can … emotion any more. I’m feeling the dumb.” The side of my mouth tugged into the semblance of a half smile.

“Well since you won’t, or can’t, handle any more emotions right now—and it doesn’t matter which, both are valid answers—then seeing as this is a fake office … wanna trash the place?” Soriano had a huge grin across his unfamiliar lumberjack face.

Wait, what? “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. But I know that this—“ he picked up the lamp next to him “—is the absolute worst lamp ever, but my mother-in-law gave it to me, so I have to keep it. And I hate it.” And without any hesitation, he got up, threw the lamp as hard as he could into the far wall, watching it shatter before saying, “Much better.”

I just stared at him. He was never the violent type. I had no idea where he was going with this.

He raised his eyebrows and waved his hands around, gesturing at the room. “Come on! Surely there’s something you hate in here. You already threw the tissues, well... until you realized you needed them. Come on, what is it? I promise I won’t be offended about your thoughts on the decor; I didn’t choose most of it anyways.”

I stared at him some more, unsure of what to do. One of the things we had worked on in the past was emotional expression, and it seemed like throwing things wasn’t super healthy. But it did look like fun. Besides, this isn't his real office…

I got up slowly, unsure of myself. There was a huge clock on the wall that ticked really loud during those awkward silences. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I wonder how many patients have lost that battle of wills and started talking specifically because of this darn clock?

I grabbed it off the wall and hurled it into the window. The window was quickly covered a variety of spiderweb cracks and pieces falling out to create a hole. And scattered below it lay the plastic remains of the clock littered on the floor. Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick. The sound had sped up now that it lays in pieces, the inner workings laid bare, broken but still holding on, the tightly-wound springs finally able to release some of the tension they’d been holding. I hated it in that moment. With a shriek I stomped on the clockwork innards until it finally went blessedly quiet.

Okay, that actually did feel pretty good.

I was going to move back to the couch, figuring the exercise was over. However, Soriano had grabbed a book and threw it at the window, too. It went through, flying into the nearby park below. “No more books!” Holding his hands in the classic victory pose, he sounded like a kid at the end of the school year.

Well alright then. I hate those magazines they always have in the waiting rooms or wherever. You know, the ones about stuff that nobody cares about? So I grabbed one of the ones sitting on the side table and began ripping pages out and throwing them on the floor. Meanwhile, he went over to his bookshelf and tipped the whole thing over. Books scattered everywhere. When I finished with the magazines, I grabbed one end of his desk…

*30 minutes later*

By the time we were finished, the couch and the seat were the only things that had been spared. The end table had lost a leg. The lamp built into it was dangling, fully bent up, at the end of its cord. The coffee table was flat on the floor. Papers were everywhere. The filing cabinet had been emptied. Only one of the pictures survived, but even it hung at an odd angle. His desk didn’t have a single leg attached anymore; Soriano and I had broken it in half using the coffee table.

The exercise had definitely helped. At some point I went from tearing out pages and just having fun, to smashing a pillow repeatedly with the table leg, imagining it to be one of the kids involved in the accident, to just flipping the desk in pure rage before eventually settling down to throwing things out the window while the adrenaline wore off. It had been a way to relieve some of the anger I had been holding onto.

We sat down and admired our handy work.

Soriano looked at the remaining photo. “Ya know I really should change that picture out. My wife likes it but really I just don’t. I’ve definitely looked happier.” Soriano confided in me, pausing a few moments, eying me to see how I was handling everything. I had settled back into the couch and let myself just settle into the numb emotional void that comes with releasing a bunch of emotion at once.

He looked over and nodded. “Well, alrighty then” he said with a satisfied sigh. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him. “Now that we’ve really trashed the place, how do you feel about, maybe, I dunno… learning how this new world you’ll be living in works. You’ve previously extolled to me the virtues of many things nerdy, but this is your first chance to really LIVE as a minotaur summoning great pillars of fire. Or a man … crab … thing—” he began waving his hands around in confusion, trying to remember all the games and worlds I’ve talked about in the past “—having vast amounts of cash or gold or whatever… Somehow, that one never did make sense.” His hands waving wildly as he envisioned some grand scene.

My lips twitched before settling back into a tight line. I nodded. Soriano smirked. He had won. I had lost the pity party fight before it had even begun and we both knew it.

“Excellent! Feeling good enough to start a project. Now, while I believe that dealing with your emotions is healthy, I think now might not be the best time to tackle that, and especially not to dwell on the situation, Jess. Grief is a long process. It’s not something that one session of meditation or whatever is going to fix. And I don’t want it to consume you to the point where you give up on this world that you’ve been super excited about. I don’t think that excitement was only because you got to spend more time with Eleanor.”

A deep breath. A second one. A third. I understood what he was saying. I couldn’t wallow too much in this. It would keep coming back and I needed space in between the dark moments so they didn’t swallow me whole.

Calm nerves. Cool and collected. Moving forward.

Progress.

I took a step away from the ruined couch, and walked out of the office with Soriano behind me. Taking a moment to remember from the partial-immersion VR games I had played before, I focused on a spot in space and thought of ‘Menu’, intending to pull up the list of races. A series of white cards reaching from above my head down to the floor faded into view, each one bearing a unique race of beings to choose from.

I knew from commercials, and observing a demo, that the world was immense, and even more so since it was considered the first “full-immersion” VR world. The sheer number of races, though, was intimidating. I perused all of them. Every. Single. One. In detail. A few minutes into this process, I knew I would need to be even more thorough and asked Soriano to get me his notepad from the other room. He happily went off to get the pad. I think he was just happy I was distracting myself. He returned while pinching his fingers in the air and gesticulating as he came, handing me the pad and pen. “Here ya go.”

“So Jess, I am glad that you’ve worked up the courage to continue forward. However, it’s a Sunday. Technically Monday now. I have to get up for my first client in six hours. … I am—” Soriano choked up for a split second before coughing twice and continuing, his calm professional demeanor cracking. “I am so proud of you, Jess. To see where you’ve started and where you’re at now, how far you’ve come to be able to achieve what you have is … I am proud to have been a part of that journey and growth.” A wan smile from Soriano. “Also, please … don’t pick the bull thing. It’d fit your stubborn side too well. Feedback loops are dangerous when left unchecked.” He gave a chuckle. I got up and and gave him a soft hug. Then Soriano turned, took one step, and vanished.