"As I turned towards the sunset, I felt a hand on my shoulder. 'Caspar? I sounded out. I knew it was far fetched to believe it could be her, yet every time I mistook her cold touch for somebody else my heart always plummeted. She didn't pay me a visit today, in fact, nor did she yesterday... or the day before. I miss seeing he face. It feels as if she's fading and I try to pull her back but there's nothing to grab. It's driving me insane!" Dr Lawson closed my journal. I tried to read her body language as she proceeding to access me in a mimicking manner.
My therapist is rather attractive I must say. She would be earning big bucks on the runway if she wasn't so obsessed with people's personal lives. Yet here she in her tiny make shift office located in her living room, dressed in her usual fashionably handicapped attire paired with her signature, thin rimmed fake glasses that coincidentally, mirror her fake personality.
"If you are going to force me to take precious time out of my day to write you pathetic journal entries the least you can do is read them in that tiny head of yours," I glared at her intensely; if looks could kill she would be six feet under, yet, she paid me no heed.
"Why do you think your making up these ghost stories Jane?" Dr Lawson asked, a feeble smile laid limp on her painted lips.
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not making anything up! Caspar is real! " I seethed. As much as these sessions help me I felt as if lately I'm being chewed up.
Squeezing my eyes shut I tried to keep my emotions in check. I always need to be in control!
My throat felt tiny as if I was breathing through a straw, every gasp of air was a struggle. It was as if I was drowning in my own emotions and it was unbearably hard for me to understand why this control was being stolen from me.
"I don't know how everyone can live when everything feels so wrong!" My face tingled as a few disobedient tears strolled down my face.
"Caspar would want you to live your best life Jane," Dr Lawson assured.
No matter how much I dislike Dr Lawson, admittedly she is a good therapist. She listens to me and I need that sometimes, having someone who just listens. If I'm being completely honest, she does also help with my 'issues' but my ego is far to fragile to allow me to give her that.
I nodded my head wanting to believe her as the silent tears ran free.
"I'm not okay," I admitted with every single bit strength I owned.
"I want to disappear," I wailed! Dr Lawson straightened up. I glanced up at her through the blur of my teary eyes and saw her tilt her head in concern.
"What do you mean by that Jane?" She spoke in a delicate voice, as if any louder I would shatter within myself, as if I was no more then fine china.
"I want to go where Caspar went", I admitted, and I felt horrified that the deepest part of me had been spoken out loud; I might as well of been naked in front of millions by how bare I was before her. It was like she was staring into my soul.
" And where did Casper go?" She pried.
" She... she went to heaven," I choked on my unbearable grief.
"I see... and how did she get there Jane?" Dr Lawson leaned forward to put a supportive hand on my shoulder.
"Its okay, its not failure to feel vulnerable, if it's making you better," She reassured.
I couldn't accept that Caspar was gone that we couldn't spend hours in our tree house or running through the woods with not a care in the world, but she was.
"Caspar died... She died of Leukemia; cancer of the blood. She was twelve years old and she was my best friend,"
