Saturday, April 24, 2010

Chapter 23

Patrick stared up at the ceiling in the middle of his second sleepless night in a row. This time though his anger wasn’t directed at Gabrielle, it was directed at her family. How could any parent or sibling treat someone the way they’d treated Gabrielle as a child? While she made some really bad choices in her life he couldn’t help but blame them for it.

Looking back at the way she’d acted at Christmas with his family, things really started to make sense. He realized now that she’d been so nervous to go because her definition of family and his were completely different. No wonder she’d broken down into tears when his mother had accepted her. That whole trip was adding up now in his mind in a way it never could before.

He felt her shift slightly next to him in bed, and he wrapped his arm tighter around her. He didn’t like the things Gabrielle had done in her past at all, but what kind of person would it make him if he just left because of things she’d done a decade ago? He’d be just like every other person that had been in Gabrielle’s life if he did, and he couldn’t even begin to think of doing that to her.

He reflected back on the rest of the day after Gabrielle’s confession. After he’d finally convinced her that he wasn’t going to kick her out of his house, she’d managed to relax some. They’d sat back down and she continued to talk, to tell him about herself back then. He knew she probably just needed to get it all out, even if it wasn’t easy for her to tell or for him to hear.

She told him that she wasn’t an alcoholic but she didn’t drink because of the memories. Cocaine had been what had put her into rehab, and more often than not, she’d drink when she did it. After leaving rehab she’d sworn off drinking because she was afraid that if she did all of those cravings would come rushing back. Then she told him about the night they’d gone out and she’d rushed out in a hurry and he’d found her shaking at home. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out then.

She recounted all of the times she’d accomplished something without the support of her parents. He listened with anger at the neglect they’d shown her and the favoritism they’d shown her older sisters. Until she’d started getting into trouble, Gabrielle seemed to be a child any parent would be proud of. He made a silent vow to himself that very moment that when he had children he’d never let them feel like he wasn’t proud of them and he didn’t love them.

His heart broke when she told him about the first time she’d cut herself. It had been on accident when she’d been drunk and fumbled a pair of scissors that had cut her arm. She told him how at first it had brought on tears and then that it had struck her that it was the first time she’d cried in as long as she could remember. A few days later, after another slight by her parents she’d been sitting in her bathroom wondering why she felt nothing by it. Then she’d spotted the scissors still sitting on the counter and remembered the tears. She picked up the scissors, hesitated for a moment, and then cut, just a small shallow line on her arm. The tears came again and it would take a long time for her to learn to stop.

After she seemed to have gotten everything out, they agreed to go back to her place. She had to work in the morning so she couldn’t stay with him, but he didn’t feel right leaving her alone tonight. He’d packed an overnight bag, put Dudley in the car and followed her home. He ordered food for dinner that they’d both only picked at as they sat curled up together on the couch. They put on a show on TV that neither seemed to be paying much attention to. They were sitting quietly when Gabrielle said something he hadn’t seen coming.

“Don’t ever fall in love with me,” she’d whispered. He’d pulled back from her in surprise, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

“Pardon?” he’d asked. Without moving a muscle she responded.

“Don’t ever fall in love with me,” she repeated. He forced her to turn her head and look at him. It was then that he saw the tears swimming in her eyes.

“Why would you say that?” he questioned.

“I’m not saying you are or you would, I’m just asking you not to.” She avoided directly answering his question, but he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Why can’t I?” he pressed.

“Because I don’t know that I’m ready or even capable to be able to ever love someone back.”

He’d pressed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her back into him. He hadn’t said anything else to her then or the rest of the night about it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. He wouldn’t tell her how sad it made him to hear that. He wouldn’t tell her that she deserved to find someone to love that would love her back. He wouldn’t tell her that he was already halfway there.










I sat down behind my desk at school and sighed. After the events of the last couple of days, I did not feel at all qualified to be doling out advice to anyone about anything right now. I could hardly figure out my own life so what right did I have to guide others in theirs? I felt like a hypocrite sitting here in this position.

After catching up on what I’d missed the day before and rescheduling appointments I’d had, I prepared for the day. Today was a session with Gia, and I had to get my head together for it. While we hadn’t made a ton of progress, we’d made some, and I didn’t want to take any steps back because I couldn’t be all there for her.

We’d had two sessions together since school had started back up from break and Gia had stayed at my house. She still wouldn’t say a word about anything that was bothering her, but at least now she’d talk some. Usually it was just about photography and some of the newest photos she’d taken. I didn’t mind, because with people like Gia, baby steps were necessary and important.

When the bell rang I waited hopeful that she’d show up for her record third straight appointment in a row. A few moments later she walked through the door. Only this time, unlike the last two, she didn’t greet me with a smile. She just walked in, dropped her bag on the floor next to the chair, and flopped down in it.

“Good morning, Gia. How are you?” I asked.

“Fine,” she mumbled. I held back a sigh at the return of old Gia.

“Okay. How’s school going?”

“Fine.”

“Any new photos this week?”

“No.”

At this point I realized that this was not going to be like the last two meetings at all. It was going to be like pulling teeth to get anything out of her and I took a moment to figure out a new approach. It was in that moment that Gia lifted an arm up to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I saw the edge of a bandage on her arm and felt sick. It was in that moment that I took a risk I’d always told myself I’d never do.

“You know that whatever you say in here stays between us, right?” I asked. She just looked at me blankly and nodded. “Okay, then I’m going to ask you to do me the same courtesy. If I tell you something, will you be able to keep it in here?” Her curiousity was piqued.

“Yeah,” was her response.

I took a deep breath and pulled off the button up sweater I was wearing. I put it around the back of the chair and turned to look back at Gia who was looking on in confusion as I then rolled up the sleeves of my blouse. I glanced down at my arms before extending them out on my lap, palms up. Gia looked down at them and I heard her sharp intake of breath.

“I was a teenager, your age actually, when I did this to myself,” I told her.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked quietly, not lifting her eyes from my arms.

“Because I know what it’s like to need to feel. Just because I’m sitting here in this office talking to students about their concerns doesn’t mean I’m immune. I had the same problems and concerns that they do. Believe it or not, I wasn’t perfect.”

Gia looked up at me and I saw a single tear fall down her face. I pulled back my arms and rolled the sleeves of my blouse back down as I let Gia contemplate what I’d just shown her. I put my sweater back on and then shifted my eyes to Gia’s arms. She pulled them against her in response.

“You don’t need to do that, Gia,” I told her quietly.

“Do what?” she asked, her voice shaking, as she tried to hold herself together.

“I did it. For years. I know the signs, all the ways to try to hide it. I know, Gia.” Her arms fell to her lap in defeat.

“It’s the only thing I can control,” she whispered.

“What can’t you control?” I asked. She hesitated as a few more tears fell.

“My parents. My boyfriend. My friends. School. Everything.”

“Why don’t you pick one thing and tell me about it. Any one you want to talk about right now. It’s up to you. You can control what we talk about. Trust me, it’ll feel better just to get it out.”

And so Gia did. She talked. She told me about her parents fighting. She told me they fought daily, sometimes all night. She told me that sometimes the fights were so bad they’d forget she was there. She told me she was taking care of herself because they weren't doing it. I listened as her appointment ran over its allotted time. I let her talk as long as she needed to.

When she finished talking about her parents I gave her some time alone in my office to compose herself before giving her a late pass for her class. She walked to the door in the outer office and hesitated before turning back to me. I watched as a small smile formed on her face.

“Thank you.” She turned and walked out before I had a chance to react at all. I began to smile as I watched her disappear from view down the hall. I turned back to head into my office when I spotted my secretary looking at me in surprise.

“I’m sorry, was that Gia or a look-a-like?” Kristen asked. I just shrugged before walking into my office and shutting the door behind me.