Things Fall Apart... They Fall Apart So Hard...
Jean lifted her pen and stared down at the smooth page before her. After a moment of pondering what thoughts to express, her spidery writing began to line the paper.
"Tomorrow, I leave Boston and return home to New York. It doesn't feel the same. Before I left, I was a successful doctor and research scientist in a happy and healthy relationship. At least on the surface. The therapist I've been seeing tells me I need to stop looking only at the surface and ignoring what lies beneath. Amazing. I can't believe I pay him money to tell me that I've been deluding myself. As if my fiance leaving me didn't spell that out clearly enough. In all honesty, the only person who has helped me at all in my stay here, I met only last night.
"I met her in a coffee shop. I had stopped in because it was raining, and my body was clamoring for caffine. I sat alone by the window, and watched the water run down the window pane. Something must have drawn her to me. Strange, usually it's me giving advice to strangers, not the other way around. She seemed shy, but I suppose my demeanor made me seem non-threatening. She wasn't a telepath, but somehow she seemed to know just what I was thinking. She sat down across from me, and just looked at me for a long moment, before she began to speak. ..
"'Things fall apart. They fall apart so hard, you can't ever put them back the way they were... It takes time. You can't just have coffee and expect everything to be alright. There's just so much to sort through. Trust has to be built again, on both sides. You have to learn if you're even the same people you were. If you can fit in each other's lives. It's a long and important process... And sometimes it just doesn't happen. You have to move on, but leaving someone you love behind... That's harder still.'
"By the end of the night I was crying in her arms as she stroked my hair and told me it would be all right. She left early this morning, after making me promise to call should I ever need anything, even just to talk. I have to be brave, and attempt to pick up the remains of my life. To be the person that Tara helped me to remember I was. Tommorow I leave for New York, and all the things I'll find there..."
Jean set down her pen and stared at her words before closing the journal. She rose and walked onto the balcony, staring out at the lights of the city. A chill ran down her spine, prompting her to pull her sweater closer about her. A mistake. It was one of Scott's. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could still smell his cologne surrounding her. Fighting back tears, she ripped off the sweater and threw it over the balcony. Walking to the railing, she lifted the pack of cigarettes sitting there, pulled one out and lit it. Smoking was a vice, but she needed something to hold on to.
"Tomorrow, I leave Boston and return home to New York. It doesn't feel the same. Before I left, I was a successful doctor and research scientist in a happy and healthy relationship. At least on the surface. The therapist I've been seeing tells me I need to stop looking only at the surface and ignoring what lies beneath. Amazing. I can't believe I pay him money to tell me that I've been deluding myself. As if my fiance leaving me didn't spell that out clearly enough. In all honesty, the only person who has helped me at all in my stay here, I met only last night.
"I met her in a coffee shop. I had stopped in because it was raining, and my body was clamoring for caffine. I sat alone by the window, and watched the water run down the window pane. Something must have drawn her to me. Strange, usually it's me giving advice to strangers, not the other way around. She seemed shy, but I suppose my demeanor made me seem non-threatening. She wasn't a telepath, but somehow she seemed to know just what I was thinking. She sat down across from me, and just looked at me for a long moment, before she began to speak. ..
"'Things fall apart. They fall apart so hard, you can't ever put them back the way they were... It takes time. You can't just have coffee and expect everything to be alright. There's just so much to sort through. Trust has to be built again, on both sides. You have to learn if you're even the same people you were. If you can fit in each other's lives. It's a long and important process... And sometimes it just doesn't happen. You have to move on, but leaving someone you love behind... That's harder still.'
"By the end of the night I was crying in her arms as she stroked my hair and told me it would be all right. She left early this morning, after making me promise to call should I ever need anything, even just to talk. I have to be brave, and attempt to pick up the remains of my life. To be the person that Tara helped me to remember I was. Tommorow I leave for New York, and all the things I'll find there..."
Jean set down her pen and stared at her words before closing the journal. She rose and walked onto the balcony, staring out at the lights of the city. A chill ran down her spine, prompting her to pull her sweater closer about her. A mistake. It was one of Scott's. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could still smell his cologne surrounding her. Fighting back tears, she ripped off the sweater and threw it over the balcony. Walking to the railing, she lifted the pack of cigarettes sitting there, pulled one out and lit it. Smoking was a vice, but she needed something to hold on to.