27
On Wednesday, I found myself back sitting across from Wendy. I was sweating profusely. My legs kept sticking to the leather of the couch - my skin slowly peeling away from it every time I tried to move.
The clock ticked softly behind her far too slowly for my liking.
I knew this week had been going too well. Moments like these in Wendy's office never failed to bring me back down to a much harsher reality.
"I think it's time we talk about your dad, Annie." She said, her eyebrow cocked mockingly as she poised a pen above her pad of paper.
I shifted again as I bit my tongue.
It would be wrong of me to say that this was my least favorite topic - every topic with Wendy was my least favorite - but it certainly wasn't one that I liked.
"What about him?" I feigned ignorance, my eyes surely glazing over as I tried to suppress every feeling that came along with remembering my dad.
"You tell me, Annie." She returned, "Why don't you tell me a bit more about him." She pried.
I glanced back at the clock. I had only been here for 10 minutes. I didn't have it in me to stall for 50 more. As much as I didn't want to talk, it felt easier than fighting her today.
"I don't remember much." I bit my cheek, looking everywhere in the room except for Wendy.
"Then tell me what you do."
"I don't know what he looked like. I can't remember ever seeing his face." I shrugged.
Wendy didn't move a muscle - it wasn't even worth writing down.
She let the silence hang in the air for several more moments before I became too uncomfortable to bear it any longer.
"The social workers took me away when I was too young to remember." I grit out, growing more frustrated. "All I have from him is a stuffed bunny and half of his genes."
Wendy scoffed at my attempt to brush her line of questioning off.
"He reached out, though. Didn't he?" She continued.
I sucked my teeth, she knew he had. She had heard all of this before - Serena and my social worker had filled her in from my last therapist.
"He sent a letter when I was 8. It wasn't substantial." I grit out.
It was far too personal for me to bring up right now - to bring up to her.
The letter meant everything to me. It got me through some of the hardest moments of my life - the hardest moments of living in a system that continued to fail me.
Every time I felt alone or lost in the world without anyone to turn to, I would slide that letter out of my diary and remind myself that someone somewhere cared.
At least in those moments I could matter to someone.
Wendy slowly jotted down a few lines without batting me an eye.
"He promised to take you home? Said he would do his best to get you out of the system soon?" Wendy pretended to ask.
I looked away - the back of my eyes beginning to sting. He had said those things but I wasn't aware she was filled in quite to that depth. She didn't deserve to know. That was my letter.
"So what?" I muttered.
"So he made some pretty serious promises - promises he wasn't able to keep. How does that make you feel?" Wendy asked with a straight face.
I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat. I could've laughed in disbelief at her question if she hadn't taken me so off guard.
"I think it's fairly obvious." I forced out.
Wendy sighed, "Annie, I'm just trying to say that you've had multiple instances throughout your life where people did not always present themselves as they had promised. In a perfect world your trusting nature would be a gift, but I think it's really coming back to harm you more than you can see."
My entire body was shaking now. I couldn't believe she was actually doing this. She was once again making this about me finally making my own decisions. I had just began to retake control of my life and she was chastising me like a 5 year old who couldn't tell right from left.
"I'm sure you have been doing your best and all, but I know you can only look out for yourself to a certain degree. I truly believe you need to rethink who you put your trust in." Wendy continued beating around the bush but I knew what she truly meant.
"You're talking about me being friends with Knox." I whispered, disbelief saturating my every word. All my tears had now dried up as my shock consumed me.
Wendy pursed her lips but didn't deny me.
"I-I can't believe this right now." I stuttered, my entire body buzzing with both shock and rage.
"I'm not trying to offend you, Annie. I just think you haven't been able to clearly see what I mean-"
"I think I see exactly what you mean." I furrowed my brows.
"You're using everything that has happened to me in my own life against me.
You think that because a whole bunch of bad things have happened, I can't possibly have any clarity on what I want for myself.
I couldn't possibly be able to make my own decisions because I'm just too damaged.
" I grit out, standing up as I grew more hot with rage.
"Well, guess what Wendy? I may be afraid of men and I may have some issues with abandonment, but that doesn't make me fucking stupid.
I know who I am and I know what I want for my life.
I'm not some naive toddler who can't take care of themself.
I've spent my whole life taking care of myself and I'm not going to stop now.
I'm already getting better and its no thanks to you so you can shove your pen and paper up your ass and fuck right off.
" I spat out before spinning on my heel and slamming the door behind me as I walked out.
Serena looked up at me in confusion as I approached the car. By now tears were freely streaming down my face and I'm sure my face was blotchy from how angry I had gotten.
I slid into the passenger seat - barely containing my sobs- before Serena leaned over and brought me into a big hug.
"Oh, Annie." She soothed, brushing hair as she held me in her arms. "We'll stop for ice cream and you can tell me everything once you're ready." She sighed as she wiped my tears away with the gentle brush of her thumb.