Chapter Fifty-Four Soundtrack: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

I lay in the back row of the cinema for six hours. I know that because I heard the same advert play nearly one thousand times and I am concerned it may have caused incurable frontal cortex damage.

Somehow, I feel even worse this morning. At least last night, I dissociated completely and dreamed only of that advert. Today, I'm having to be myself. Myself is not a good person to be. I don't like her.

Go to therapy fgs, is Mei's helpful advice. I try to remind myself that she's an on-call doctor and not available for pizza every time I'm sad. I do actually pay Sandra for that service. But I suspect Mei would be more forgiving. Sandra's still determined to help me grow and, since I can't even leave bed, I don't think she'll have much luck with that.

You got it, Barry responded when I emailed in sick this morning. I got it. Barry says so. There's literally no reason to leave my flat ever again.

Call Sandra right now, Mei texts again, and I'll come over as soon as I finish my shift. But that will be 2am and I will only come if you call her first xoxoxo

It's noon. I have fourteen hours before Mei refuses to come. How many burritos can I eat in fourteen hours?

Probably a lot.

*

Too many. That's how many.

But I texted Sandra and now, with seven hours before Mei arrives, I'm on a video call with her. My stomach is making a terrible sound, but Sandra's pretending not to hear it.

I told her what happened and even tried to mimic Nas's voice in the dialogue, which she immediately told me to stop. But I know she's invested because she pursed her lips when I said 'Love'. For Sandra, that's a big reaction. Now that I'm done with reenacting it, I'm deep into analysis.

'What was his plan here, Sandra? What do people even do anymore? We go on dates and talk and cook... What? Flan? What even is flan? Jesus Christ, what a stupid word!'

'Ellie, what do you smell?' she asks calmly.

Does she mean the burritos? I inhale deeply, but my room smells like lavender and the rain outside. I've been sleeping with my window open, lately. What is she smelling? Wait, she's on Zoom. She can't smell anything here.

Oh. I see why she's getting me to inhale repeatedly. Inhaling is just breathing.

'That was a panic attack,' I tell her.

'I think so'.

'I breathed through it, though.'

'That's great.'

'Am I overreacting?'

'You're just reacting, Ellie.'

That's a nice way to phrase it. I turn those words over in my mind. I'm just reacting.

I remind myself to breathe - since I nearly stopped again - and I focus on the feeling of my sheets on my legs and the sound of the rain outside. Sandra waits until I'm ready.

'It's weird that he wanted me to meet his parents,' I say.

'Why?'

I catch my breath enough to roll my eyes. 'Because we're not even dating'.

'What do you think he might have meant by it?' She loves making me guess other people's thoughts.

'I guess he wanted to, like... demonstrate his intentions? Or maybe he genuinely thought I'd like them. Maybe he just panicked and thought if he rushed in, I wouldn't have a chance to pull away.' I don't know what seems most likely. Maybe some combination of all three. Even in my panicked state, I can't pretend that he was faking the whole thing. We're past denial.

'Does considering that change anything?'

'I still think he could have just asked normally.'

'Would you have reacted differently if he'd asked to be a couple?'

'Maybe! I don't know why he had to be so stubborn. Just ask outright. Don't dance around it and then storm out.'

'Is he normally stubborn, in your opinion?'

My silence answers her. And, arguably, demonstrates something about my stubbornness, too.

'What are you thinking?' she asks.

'I'm thinking I may have messed this one up.'

'Maybe.'

'That doesn't make me feel better!'

'I'm trying to make you be better.'

'Am I a bad person, Sandra?'

'You know I can't answer that as your therapist, but as an unbiased observer, I don't think so. I think you just made a bad choice.'

'Why do you think I panicked? I mean, I think I like him. Like, a lot. I actually want him to like me.'

'Why do you think you panicked?'

'Because...' I finally say what I've been feeling for weeks. 'What if he dies, too? What if I'm alone again?'

'Would you miss him if he disappeared today?'

'Of course. So how much worse would it be if...?'

She writes something down. I feel like she's trying to ask something else, but wants me to figure it out. I don't need to guess, though. I know what she's implying. Would losing him later be worse than losing him now? Of course it would. I know that for a fact.

'Are you mourning Ben or punishing yourself?' she asks.

I don't know that, though. I just shake my head.

'You know, Ellie,' she says, 'I think he would forgive you. You just have to forgive yourself first.'

'I was so cruel to him.'

'I don't mean Nas.'

Not for the first time, I cry until our call is over. I imagine every bitter, cold, dark feeling pouring out too, until I'm hollow and light and free. Only then, once I've reminded myself that I am not a bad person, do I text Mei and ask her to bring hot chocolate.