I'm up at an unreasonable hour. I guess that's what happens when you go to bed so early. I get out of bed and stretch. My body actually feels really good. I need to find out what kind of mattress this is, because it's amazing.
I take a piss and brush my teeth. I then go into the kitchen to make myself a mug of coffee. As I take my first sip, I look out the window. The sun is just starting to rise over the lake. I put my coat on over my pajamas and take my coffee out to the chair I'd sat in last night. It's cold, but my hot coffee keeps me warm.
The sunrise is spectacular. I really wish I had my phone on me to take a picture. Seriously, why couldn't I have brought a phone and just not had internet access? I'd never even bothered to ask if that was possible. Maybe I can pick up a cheap camera in town.
After the sun has risen well above the horizon, I go inside. I make myself a couple scrambled eggs and some toast. I eat at my little table, and then I do the dishes. I look at the clock on the wall. I have an hour before my therapist is going to show up and make me less crazy. I use this time to take a long shower. I consider shaving, but decide this is the perfect time to grow out my beard.
I sit on the couch looking at a book to kill time. There's a built in bookcase next to the fireplace with at least a hundred books. I never read, but maybe this is the time to start. I'd picked a Stephen King book out, but all I'd read of it so far was the description on the back.
Eventually there's a knock at the door. I open it and see a very old, very short gentleman.
"Shawn?" he inquires.
"I'm Paul. I'm your therapist."
He extends a hand and I shake it. He then walks in and looks around.
"Nice cabin," he observes.
"Do you mind if I get a coffee?" he asks.
"Help yourself," I say as I take a seat on the couch.
Paul gets a mug of coffee and joins me in the living room, sitting in a chair adjacent to me.
We spend a little time just getting to know each other. I'm sure he has seen my file, but he acts like he knows nothing. He asks me all about my life and career, focusing mostly on happy stuff. I'm proud of what I've accomplished, so I'm willing to share. After about 45 minutes, he asks me what happened to get me here.
I shut down.
Paul seems to be used to this, because he circles back and starts asking about my tour and my recent album and even the movie I'd been involved with. When our time is up, I'm relieved that I didn't have to talk about the breakdown.
"I'd like to see you tomorrow," Paul says.
I shrug. It's not like I have anything else to do. I walk him to his car and tell him goodbye.
When I get back in the house, I want to call my mom. I really want to tell her I had my first session. I know I need to wait, though. I'd promised everyone I'd give myself some space. Holy fuck do I have space right now. I have nothing but space. One week. Six days at this point. I can handle the space.
I take the book I'd selected earlier into the bedroom and climb into the comfy bed and start reading. I read until there's a knock at the door.
I expect the same kid to be there. I don't know why I expect this; I guess I just assumed there was one food delivery person. This time, there's a girl, or rather a young woman, standing there. She's probably 20, although she could be older or younger. She's gorgeous in a "girl next door" kind of way. Her hair is dark brown and up in a loose pony tail so that wavy strands frame her face. Her skin is pale, but not unattractively so. She has rosy cheeks and very pink lips, though I don't think she's wearing lipstick. Her eyes are green. Like truly green, not hazel.