In Which the Spring Semester Comes to an End and I Say Good-bye to Danielle
Friday was the last day of the spring semester, and now I can release a long (and well deserved) sigh of relief. I took my last final (jazz) and got the paper I wrote on Bellvue Cadillac back (A+ --Well written and very entertaining! You captured the essence well! Dr. Grendrich wrote with much enthusiasm). The spring semester was difficult (note the lack of journal entries), but I'm pretty sure I made straight A's. That's just how fucking awesome I am. I have a few weeks off before I return to Florida to visit Maeve and Mike-- AND THEN I have a summer class-- Math 105. If that class drags down my GPA I will cry. Buckets.
My last session with Danielle was also on Friday. She's been my counselor on campus since September, and since she's an intern and not coming back in the fall, she and I had to say good-bye. We talked about my progress and she told how great I had been. I laughed and said that at least I was an interesting case study. I brought a copy of the essay I wrote about Tippy for my BSC application, as I promised I would. She told me it was beautiful. "You have a gift. This is a piece of work to be proud of."
We had one last talk about my ex-boyfriend, which had been one of my favorite topics over the past school year. "I don't think about Jesse much anymore. I guess I'm finally at the point that I don't really give a shit what he's doing. It's getting to that neutral ground that I've been waiting for-- I'm moving on and I'm totally thrilled about it. I can't spend too much time thinking about him because when I do it messes up the equilibrium."
"The equilibrium?"
"I mean, there are still days that I hate him, days that I laugh about what a complete dipshit he could be. These are the days that I thank fucking God that he's out of my life. He's her headache now, I tell myself."
I paused and drew in a deep breath before continuing.
"But then there are other days that I'm grateful. It's like, I don't think I could ever really hate the guy. Before I came here, Jesse was my counselor. He listened to me. He was always patient. There were times that I totally shit all over him and I'm still sorry about that. The burdens I unloaded on him were enormous and he dealt with them like a champ. Switching back and forth from opposite sides of the spectrum is confusing. I want to be friends, I want to get to the point where we can hang out without things being awkward, but it's hard because when he's not on my mind, my life is so much better."
"You do realize that you may never get to the neutral point you're talking about? I know it's not the answer you want to hear, but it's a reality that you have to face," Danielle commented carefully.
"Yeah," I said. "I know."
And that was pretty much everything I had to say about my ex-boyfriend (unless you count when I was showing Danielle my journal online and I showed her the hate mail Jesse's girlfriend's dipshit cousin sent me. I had forgotten how fucking funny that entry was and I thought we could use a good laugh after reading and discussing the aforementioned essay.)
"I came here last fall when my life was a big mess," I said at the end of our session. "Eight months later I'm still a mess sometimes, but I'm OK with that. I'm dealing with it, and that's what's important, right?"
Danielle smiled. "You always say that you're a mess but I strongly disagree." She paused. "There have been a lot of bad things that have happened to you, circumstances that would understandably cause other people to fall apart, but you've managed to remain strong, determined and kind. You're a good person, Tara. You're far from being a mess."
And that was the end. I gave her a hug and wished her luck on her way to getting her doctorate.
She was a great counselor. I miss her already.
My last session with Danielle was also on Friday. She's been my counselor on campus since September, and since she's an intern and not coming back in the fall, she and I had to say good-bye. We talked about my progress and she told how great I had been. I laughed and said that at least I was an interesting case study. I brought a copy of the essay I wrote about Tippy for my BSC application, as I promised I would. She told me it was beautiful. "You have a gift. This is a piece of work to be proud of."
We had one last talk about my ex-boyfriend, which had been one of my favorite topics over the past school year. "I don't think about Jesse much anymore. I guess I'm finally at the point that I don't really give a shit what he's doing. It's getting to that neutral ground that I've been waiting for-- I'm moving on and I'm totally thrilled about it. I can't spend too much time thinking about him because when I do it messes up the equilibrium."
"The equilibrium?"
"I mean, there are still days that I hate him, days that I laugh about what a complete dipshit he could be. These are the days that I thank fucking God that he's out of my life. He's her headache now, I tell myself."
I paused and drew in a deep breath before continuing.
"But then there are other days that I'm grateful. It's like, I don't think I could ever really hate the guy. Before I came here, Jesse was my counselor. He listened to me. He was always patient. There were times that I totally shit all over him and I'm still sorry about that. The burdens I unloaded on him were enormous and he dealt with them like a champ. Switching back and forth from opposite sides of the spectrum is confusing. I want to be friends, I want to get to the point where we can hang out without things being awkward, but it's hard because when he's not on my mind, my life is so much better."
"You do realize that you may never get to the neutral point you're talking about? I know it's not the answer you want to hear, but it's a reality that you have to face," Danielle commented carefully.
"Yeah," I said. "I know."
And that was pretty much everything I had to say about my ex-boyfriend (unless you count when I was showing Danielle my journal online and I showed her the hate mail Jesse's girlfriend's dipshit cousin sent me. I had forgotten how fucking funny that entry was and I thought we could use a good laugh after reading and discussing the aforementioned essay.)
"I came here last fall when my life was a big mess," I said at the end of our session. "Eight months later I'm still a mess sometimes, but I'm OK with that. I'm dealing with it, and that's what's important, right?"
Danielle smiled. "You always say that you're a mess but I strongly disagree." She paused. "There have been a lot of bad things that have happened to you, circumstances that would understandably cause other people to fall apart, but you've managed to remain strong, determined and kind. You're a good person, Tara. You're far from being a mess."
And that was the end. I gave her a hug and wished her luck on her way to getting her doctorate.
She was a great counselor. I miss her already.