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For Years

July - Just an exercise.

By KaiPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
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For Years
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

“I have watched the moons path stretch across night skies. Repeated in its numerous steps, shimmering in its silver. I have watched the world open and close at the flicker of sunlight that rushes in with stillness and splendor. I have watched her eyes twinkle and sparkle over and over again. From each crushing blow and assured defeat arose a Phoenix. But it makes me wonder…..does the Phoenix like the fire? Does it like the burning and the black and the ash? Does it hurt? Does it cry? Is this what it wanted to be? Something constantly destroyed to the be pushed back into life? Will it ever be allowed to just be?”

I stop reading the words on the page. The taps of raindrops beat lightly on the windows.

“This is stupid.”

“Hey. I was into the dramatic flair and imagery. It took a turn after the rhyming though. Like knock-off Shakespeare.” My therapist laughs.

I always liked them, so honest and to the point. Whatever exercise or technique we did, they never lied or held back. They wouldn’t let me hide and that’s what I like to do. Its what I do best.

Well, you’re not here to hide. They’d say. This is one place you’re not supposed to.

“Well, that’s what your trash prompt made me write. It’s what it made me think of. If I’m a knock off Shakespeare, then you’re the other now dead guy I copied.”

I close the marbled notebook and shove it in my bag.

Another smile. “Christopher Marlowe and its allegedly copied.”

“At least one of us is having fun. How much time do we have left anyway?”

“The reason I gave it to you was so that we’d have something to look at. A place to start from. You're usually more willing.”

I look to my hands and knead my fingers together. I squeeze until I hear slight ringing in my ears.

“Doing that won’t make me stop talking. But be gentle with yourself. Ease your grip. I know today isn’t an easy day, that’s why I thought we could start off with something fun and light. Build up to it.”

I scoff.

“It’s not exactly the easiest thing to talk about. No matter how much building you do. She’s never an easy subject. I love her but it’s never easy with her.”

“Hmmm. Well from what I've heard, you have a good relationship with her. It’s had its changes. You’ve created your boundaries and strengthened your relationship because of them. You love your mother, so what do you mean by ‘It’s never easy with her?’ Is it exactly her that you mean or do you mean something?”

“Why do you have to pick apart my words. It’s fucking irritating.”

“I like specificity and intention.'' They shrug and smile. ''Is she the one you’re really angry at?”

''No, she's not.''

I undo my hands and let them rest on the tops of both knees. ''I guess to be more specific, it's what surrounds her that is never easy. It's not even like she's in it all the time, and its not like its her fault either.''

They pick up their notebook and open it to its middle page. The pen in hand scribbles lightly across. Cursive, how appropriate.

''Can you explain what it actually is?''

''I'm not actually angry either. I was once but now its all is frustration. And the it? Where do I even begin?''

I look up to meet their steady eyes. One brown and one blue, like two souls existing in one body. Two people. ''Begin at the beginning.'' They say and we both laugh. Cheeky.

I look down to my hands in my lap. They feel so small.

''I'd say the beginning is when I first heard her cry. It was past midnight. She had a habit, well still has a habit of walking through the hall at night. I can always tell when she's up, stepping lightly isn't her thing. She wants the devil to know she's there and that he better start running. I think I was 7 or 8, maybe 9 and I listened to her foot steps. Said she stepped hard so the evil could hear her coming and scatter. She went to each one of our doors and touched them whispering prayer and protection. Like some witch or wizard or shaman. My brother and sister would hear her too. But on that night, I got out of my bed and tip toed to the door. Her shadow black against the moonlight stretched over floor. Her hand pressed my door and it made its usually creak. I don't know why but in the darkness the door seemed to expand and contract. To grow larger and then shrink to smallness. It seemed to move.''

''Was it beating like a heart? Pulsing?''

''No, it wasn't beating at all. It was if the door was a lung and taking in air then releasing it.''

''So, it was breathing?''

''Yes, breathing. While she spoke in hushed whispers the door seemed as if it was responding. Absorbing her words even... I was curious so I took my hand and pressed it to the door. I felt it push out and in against it. 'Wow', I remember thinking to myself. 'My mom can make dead things live again.' She's magical. She is magic. But then I hear a sniffle. Then one sniffle turns to sniffles and I feel the door creaking more. I think it was holding her up then. More creaking followed by small sobs that grew. It got louder too. I don't know how my brother and sister didn't hear it but no other doors opened.''

''Did you want to open the door?''

''I didn't know what to do. I wasn't used to hearing my mom cry like this. She never let us see this either. I mean, I know she's human but she never cried around us unless she was happy. I think that was the night I started seeing her as a whole person.''

''I see.''

''Do you think I'm martyring her?''

''Why do you think you are?''

''I feel like I used to, when I was younger. Now, I think I'm better able to see the whole of it.''

''It has never seemed like you did to me. Adoration and Idealization yes but never blind faith or ignorance. It sounds to me that your view of your mother changed as you grew and that is usually how it goes. How it is supposed to go. You are better able to see the ''whole of it'' as you say. The more you reflect, unpack and question it all becomes less fuzzy. It doesn't all appear at once but the picture, it starts to develop. But now that brings us to..''

''The 'it' of it?'' I wink. They nod and smile.

I take a deep breath and sigh. 3 minutes pass. The raindrops cease their tapping. 5 minutes pass. My phone screams from my bag on the floor. 10 minutes pass. I look to my fingers and twiddle them idly. The 'It' of it all?

The it. I look up.

''She's it.''

''The phoenix.''

''Yes, the phoenix.''

''But phoenix's are supposed to burn.''

''I know, but...not before its time.''

Jordan tilts their head. They close the book on their lap and clasp their hands together.

''She was always on fire.. even if she didn't want to be, they'd set her on fire.''

I can feel the tears well in my eyes. My throat catches. Shoulders stiffening. Fists clenching.

''Smoke and ash. For years. For years I watched her burn. Burn and return. Her eyes closed, head bowed in prayer as orange and blue would just spread. But she would never let it touch us.''

I stand. I don't do well with sitting in my emotions. I have to move. Some action or shifting from one place to the other. I begin to pace from the office door to the window. Dr. Jordan stares silently but intently. Their eyes never leaving my face.

''Do you know how many times I had to watch her die and comeback? They tried to control her nature, curb her path. Ah, I feel like I sound so stupid! Talking about mythical creatures and beasts. HA!''

''But you love those things. Those myths, those stories. They were parts of your childhood Danielle. They aren't stupid, in their own way they helped you understand even before you could name whatever the thing or things were.''

I stop at the window and look down to the street. The umbrellas like fields of flowers.

I hear Dr. Jordan stand and come to the edge of the couch. I can feel them standing behind me. Eyes bearing into the back of my head.

''Your two strand twists are lovely.''

I laugh. We laugh.

''Sorry, I'm just staring at the back of your head. The rows are really neat.'' Dr. Jordan comes closer and stands at the other side of the office window I stare out of. They always give me space.

''So now that you know what ''it'' is...what do you want to do about it? What do you think would be the next step for you Danielle. You can't feel what your mother feels or what she should allow herself to feel. You are only responsible for you.''

''If she's a phoenix , then you are too.''

I look over at them. ''Oh really? Are you going to tell me to fly high and free.''

They shake their head and smile.

''I say burn when it's time. Rise when you are ready.''

fact or fiction
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About the Creator

Kai

I don't know, but I am finding out.

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