The water is so still she could see her reflection and all of her surroundings in a jaw dropping blue hue. Every detail of the clouds was so irritably in focus that she begun to splash around. The view was mesmerizing… almost too much so. Unfit for such a view, her face was a mess. The smeared mascara was classic evidence that she’d been crying for some time now. With a small sigh of relief she falls face first into the water to only wake up with dark circles under her eyes. It was that dream again. The same one she’d been having ever since her fiancé died in a car reck. Life as she knew it was duller ever since that day but he’d left one thing for her. Because he was an aspiring writer waiting to become a published one, she’d also picked up writing. If it was knitting or anything else for that matter, she would have dropped it a long time ago but it seemed she also found the allure. Creating and destroying her own designs with mere words became an exciting hobby for her. Even before she’d said yes to him, she surprised even herself as she’s never been so taken by any hobby. Before he so abruptly left, she and him were finishing writing a calm scene of the two of them taking in the sight of a clear lake. Strangely enough there weren’t a piece of land in sight. It was supposed to be a fever dream of a fictional character but became a regular dream of hers. The gentle water. The warm sun. His presence behind her. Everything was delightful in this dream until she looked back to find nothing but her reflection again. This made such a dream nothing short of a nightmare. She would once again cry her heart out to wake up upon falling into the water. She hasn’t written since that day. It’s too painful. She found herself in therapy not being able to get over him. Every Tuesday she went to see her therapist with no luck. She only recently started driving again as it’s hard to function without it. The people in her circle became accustomed to the deep dark circles under her eyes. Everyday went by, she found it a little easier to breath but she hated herself for that.

Tuesday came rolling around again. She greeted him in the same manner as usual but was dealt a surprise. Instead of the usual calming music in the background of his office, she swore she could hear a pin drop. Instead of the dimmed lighting, the room was like any other room: bright. The familiar professional smile lit up on his face when he greeted her back but everything else was different. He noticed my hesitation and said, “shall we try something new?” and gestured her to sit down. They both new that she wasn’t progressing as she hoped to.

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This must be another futile attempt to lessen my pain. This thought occupied her enough to not even notice the pen and paper being pushed to her. When she finally did she gasped in realization in what he was urging her to do. She’d sworn off writing because it was something she did with her lover. It felt like betrayal! She began to get up to leave when he said, “hear me out.” Hear him out?! She was so madly in love and devoted that she’d have killed someone for her lover if he’d asked her to. He wouldn’t have because he was just as in love with her like a corny Disney movie where they break out into song. She knew this. They were such a good couple. She was about to unleash unrestrained fury unto him but alas something stopped her. Was it curiosity? Perhaps the lack of sleep. With an irritated “WHAT” to his face she sat back down. With not even a raised eyebrow he asked to write how she feels on paper instead of telling him this time.

It’s a trick! Don’t let him fool you. You’re smart, aren’t you? You know what he’s doing. Feelings of doubt began to trickle in as she lowered her eyes to the paper. She noticed how flimsy it was. It was a page ripped out of a college ruled notebook. With some hesitation, she picked up the pen and wrote on the first line: shattered. She put the pen down. After a long pause, she broke down dry heaving. The therapist was quick to let her know that it was okay and that he wanted for her to let it out. She fully broke down in tears as she began to wail. It wasn’t a pretty sight but all she was feeling was relief. Once again her therapist worked his magic like before. He turned on the calming music he usually had on and dimmed the lights as he reassured her that it’s okay to let go. After what seemed like an eternity of crying, she settled into a dry smile. He passed her a tissue box, “feel better?”

She nodded and whispered, “thank you”.