“Why are you here?” said the skinny twig sitting next to me.
I blanked for the first time as I looked across the room to find Wednesday’s seat unfulfilled with her soft, warm body. I glanced over to the person sitting next to me and saw her staring right at me.
“It’s your turn,, ” she said with a warm smile.
I was flustered, what was I to say? My usual, life sucks, I suck, I wish prostitution was legal because then I wouldn’t be here? Side note, only Caroline knows that last thought. I looked back at the empty seat and realized that I felt empty, this whole damn time I felt fucking empty. My anger and hate towards the world was built by one stupid moment, one stupid second where everything could have been different.
“Is it possible to be the one thing you hate the most?” I whispered.
No one spoke, no one likely heard me, but that’s just a technicality.
“Vivian, you have to speak up.” The leader said from three seats down.
Gulping a large hot breath I asked it again “Is it possible to be the one thing you hate the most?”
The room filled with silent chatter; words not audible except by those who spoke them, while I sat in a haze.
“Vivian, can you elaborate on this?”
With a soft nod, I let out the first tear I’ve shed in over three years. “No!”
And with a gentle touch on my shoulder, my therapist knew I had finally had a break through.