It was not a surprise that he overslept today. Things like this happened to him before and will happen again, do not even doubt it. When the sun was filling the room and even curtains couldn’t stop it, he knew that it was around 1 p.m. outside the house. He got up illy, faintly, as if he was a cancer patient in the last stage. What day was that? What month? He didn’t know that. After quitting a job he lost count of days and weeks. Every day was the copy of yesterday and the day before, and the day before that. He was getting up in the morning, making himself a cup of coffee, taking a newspaper and then just finding himself staring at one page and not getting the words written there. His mind wasn’t there at all. He couldn’t help it, but he was in those memories, which you can’t tell anyone. So, he couldn’t either. He was one on one with those memories and tried to deal with them without one’s help. As you can see, this strategy hasn’t worked for him yet.
So, as he got up, he forced himself to go to the kitchen and make coffee. While coffee machine was buzzing in work, he looked outside the window. It was sunny, but clouds seemed to appear. Maybe, it was going to rain. The trees weren’t moving, so there was no wind outside...One leaf fell from a maple and glued itself to the window.
Oh, so it is fall already... – he muttered, as if this discover didn’t surprise him.
Well, maybe, it didn’t. He got used to changes outside his comfort zone. He got used to be a loner and he thought that he was enjoying his life. That what he told himself every evening before going to bed. He got used... But what was before that? He hadn’t been a loner, he hadn’t been living day after day with no change and risk. What happened to him?
Coffee machine beeped, announcing to its owner that his coffee is ready. He was going to take the cup but suddenly the doorbell rang. You may think – “thank God there is a change, not every day is a copy of yesterday”. But he didn’t, because he knew who is coming today. It was his therapist, although he didn’t know why the hell he needs one. Nevertheless, he had an appointment with therapist once a week and, since he refused to go to her office, she decided to make his parlor a place for their sessions. She couldn’t say her patient is doing anything she suggests as she walked in. No raincoats, no rain boots, no umbrellas. And it has been raining all week... She stopped in the hallway for a minute to get her thoughts together.
Come in, don’t make this a torture. – he said with no emotion in his voice.
It seemed to her that he gave up on his life a long time ago. What was the purpose of this therapy then? Why she kept coming and he kept paying her for her work? Or it wasn’t him who was paying? Because she caught herself thinking that he doesn’t want all of this, he doesn’t want anyone to help him. But still, she was a therapist, it was her duty to help those, who think that they don’t need her help.
Oh, you changed furnishings! – she said, sitting down in the armchair which became her working space. His face still wasn’t showing any emotion. She wondered if he had a face, which could smile and laugh, or at least raise eyebrows.
Yes. I’ve changed curtains.
Why did you decide to change it?
Oh, please! Don’t you know why people usually change curtains, sheets, or clothes? Ask me something that won’t make me want to kick you out, Miss… What was your name?
Jane Redeemer
Yes, Miss Redeemer! Now I remembered. What a fool made up this name?
She got used to him being rude. It was a reality of her job – she makes them cope with their problems and they hate her and tell her where and how she needs to go. But seeing this man shutting down from therapy again…
So, tell me. Is there any change in your life? Maybe, you found a job or friends?
Let me think… Job? No way, nothing will make me go back to that point. Friends? I spoke to one of my neighbors two days ago. Turned out he is a firefighter, so now I can live without worrying that my house would burn to ashes one day. It would kill me, if it burned… - he said, looking at picture, hanging on the wall. That was a photo of his family, which was taken years and years ago. That was already something, she could work with it.
Okay... But why would it kill you, if you survived? I know you have a house in the South.
But it is not so... I have memories here, you know. And things I don’t want to lose. That vase, you see? – he pointed in the corner of the room. – Cathie loves this vase. Her brother gave it to her on her birthday...
You mean she loved. – his eyes stopped on Jane and he, finally, raised his eyebrows. – She loved that vase. She died. Your wife died two years ago, Fred. And until you realize and accept this fact, no therapy can help you.
The door closed after Miss Jane Redeemer walked out of it. The silence filled the house again. He stood there for a few minutes... Then went to the kitchen to make his cup of coffee, with a newspaper in his hand. The leaf still was glued to the window. However, there was no sun and trees were swaying in the wind. The rain started. He didn’t care. Coffee machine stopped buzzing and beeped. He took a cup and a newspaper, sat in the chair and sighed with relief. Nobody will interrupt him this time.
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