"Unititled" by Natalie M

     Ella’s first session began with the strange old woman. It was a tuesday afternoon, and
she was confused and fearful of what would occur. Skeptical really. How was she supposed to
tell a stranger what was wrong? How was she supposed to explain to a stranger what was going
on in her head when she couldn’t even process it herself?
     When she had walked in, the soft smells of warm vanilla and sweet strawberries
wrapped around her. She sat down in the corner loveseat which wasn’t very comfortable but
wasn’t too stiff as well. The typical small talk occurred and then the woman asked her about her.
And she began..
     “At the age of 16 I had told myself I had experienced my first love. It was despicable. I
was brought up to be strong, independent, even selfish, when it came to my feelings. And every
single speck and spot of that was torn away from me leaving a void within me so extreme I felt..
hollow and cold. Since the very beginning, I had preached to myself and others a more cynical
view about this "feeling" of love. And the idea of "trust" Hell yes it is a game. A waste of time.
Even an excuse where you stop loving yourself and when all of you is entirely consumed with
the up keeping of the person you adore. For the one who is now devouring your life and
thoughts that were once focused on the prosperity of you. It’ an inevitable thing. Three words
are thrown at one another more carelessly than a premature little boy crossing the street to
chase the puppy he just thought was cute and would make him... happy. How often can one
mistake this feeling till they realize it’s all a.. a farce. I’d like to argue that love is a choice. And
I’d argue this until that next boy or girl comes along and messes you up again. Things happen. I
say that to everyone who I notice is being sucked into the oblivion of having too much hope. “Oh
my goodness please be careful you're bound to get let down,” my thoughts keep telling me. Call
me cynical, call me a realist, call me a damn pessimist but I'm not going to walk on that pretty
path beneath that fake rainbow when I know it was just raining. You know you're about to step in
puddles right? Rainbows are temporary anyway. Just like "happiness."
     But then there’s this, I will never be at least temporarily "happy." I will never fall so deep I
feel as though I've entered another world. Eternal happiness is not real and it does not last
forever. Nothing is genuine. I'm going to be a second guesser all my life wondering if giving
myself would've lead to even the slightest genuine grin upon my face. So that the creases made
when I smile on the inner sides of my cheek would then leave permanent wrinkles symbolizing a
merriment in my well being. Do you ever see those people with those marks upon their face and
think.. "wow, they must smile and laugh a lot." No?.. I do. I’d like a few wrinkles along the sides
of my mouth. I’d like those crows to press their tiny feet
along the sides of my eyes. If I were to obtain them, it'd be from laughing and mocking all of you
whom let yourselves fall weak. Fools... I wish I could be one. I blame my family. I blame my
mother. I blame my father. I blame those around me who have failed. It all ends poorly. And
seeing it has kept my eyes open so wide they don’t even burn anymore if I don't blink. Dream
selling. That's all this lifetime has to offer and everyone is damned if they don't stray away from
getting what they want. “Don't try to be happy what are you doing? It’s not real! “ the thoughts
keep yelling. Let me not, no, let me not place my hands near the fire. Yes, you’ll be warm but I'm
warning you, it’s windy and this raging fire is going to burn you as soon as those flames are
blown in every direction consuming even the strongest of beings. I like the cold.
     I’m awake and I see what the world is really like. All of you are still sleepwalking and it’s
okay. All it takes is a bump on your head against that wall full of nails or a trip down these stairs
into eternal damnation for you to realize it's all sugar coated lies. At least that’s what the
thoughts say. A person, I, can wake up one morning and want the most out of life then realize
that what I want... isn't even what I want. "If you keep telling yourself this, you just might start
believing it" I've been telling myself that I'm happy for the past 7 years and I still feel my smile
deteriorating off the side of my face. Oh my apologies let me fix it.. Again.
     Enough about the truth. Back to how all of you are fools, back to how you all are able to
let yourselves have hope, back to how all of you are willing to live and take chances, back to
how all of you still think that genuine happiness is obtainable, back to how all of you allow
yourselves to love. Back to how all of you are still grasping onto the concept of well being so
tight it’s like the fingers on each hand and life have interlinked themselves into a gate made of
steel keeping out the monsters that can break you!
     All of you are fools.. And I still wish I was one.
     The woman looked at Ella as though she had opened a door in her head. One that lead
to new ways of thinking and one that brought about so many questions. This wasn’t a child who
needed help. She was a child who was fearful, or maybe even aware.