The Love That We Deserve

A Diamond Under The Pressure

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I pick at my lilac blanket that lays across my lap as I lay on the couch. Today was my first day of therapy and we all thought, more like Owen and Dr. Shale thought, that it would be better for me to stay at home a have my therapy sessions there. They say that a familiar surrounding will help with my anxiety as well as help me open up. Well that was all bullshit.

"Isabella I know you don't want to talk, but you need to." I turn my head to the side to see that he is looking at me with annoyed eyes. "We have been here for an hour and thirty six minutes." I huff and turn back to face the ceiling again. "Look, Isabella in order for me to help you, you need to give me something." The older man stands and walks to the kitchen. I can hear him digging through my cabinets and the sound of a pan hitting the stove. I sit up and watch the man go through my fridge taking out some potatoes, butter, cheeses, and milk.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, she does talk what a relief." He fills the pot with water and then puts it on the stove turning on the flame. "Well I thought since you're not going to talk, we might be here for a while so I should make us something to eat. I'm feeling quite peckish." He cuts the potatoes into cubes. "Owen tells me you're a fanatic of loaded mashed potatoes with extra bacon. So that's what im going to make."

"Do you and Owen talk about me a lot?" I watch him walk to the window and grab some fresh chives from the pot.

"Well, yes and no. Yes because I needed some basic information, and no because we don't. I want to talk to you." He hands me the chives and cheeses. "Here small cuts, and I'll give you the grater for the cheeses."

"Fine." I grab them and he puts down a cutting board and knife. "The grater is in that cabinet." I point to it and he pulls it out. I begin to cut the chives in even, perfect cuts. "I don't know where to start."

"Just grate the parme-"

"No, I-I mean I don't know what to say."

"Oh, well just grate the cheese first. Do that and it will come." I nod and start to grate the cheese I watch as the pure white heavenly goodness starts to sprinkle down into the bowl.

"I feel like a failure." I feel him stop moving next to me as I move on to the cheddar cheese. "I feel broken. Like whatever I do I am making it worse."

"And are you?" I look at him. "Or is it just you that feels that way?"

"Me. I'm my own downfall." I finished grating all the cheeses. "I try to help everyone but myself." I move to the sink to wash my hands. I watch as the soap bubbles between my fingers the smell of apples coming to my senses. "I've stoped cutting so that's good."

"Why."

"Why? What do you mean why?" I look at him confused as I dry my hands and walk to the stools.

"Why have you stopped cutting. From your file from Dr. Lopez states that you told her the last time you cut yourself was about eleven months ago. What happened eleven months ago that made you stop?"

I look down at my wrist to see the faded scars. "Eleven months ago I found out that I was pregnant with my babies. I stopped for them."

"Why?" I watch him mince the garlic to perfection. "Why did you Isabella decide that you should not harm yourself any more just because you have a cluster of cells growing in you?"