EPILOGUE
Nora
*6 months later*
Sitting in my therapist’s office, I observe everything around me like I do every therapy session. The rows of books about psychology were on her shelf, the box of tissues next to my side, and the whiteboard where I’ve written out my emotions many times. My therapist, Emily, walks in sitting down on the chair opposite me. She has a scarf tucked round her neck, and a knitted jumper hugging her torso.
“Hello Nora, how are you doing?”
Emily asks. Sometimes I come to these sessions, especially when I feel low, feeling like there’s a tape over my mouth. I can’t speak, I can’t cry for help, all I can do is sit there and grunt. The countless conversation we have that I’m wasting my money to just sit here. I get it, I pay lots of money for these sessions, and although to Emily it may look like I’m not improving, I am. A month after Ophelia left me stranded in Las Vegas, I finally came to therapy. I was so angry at Ophelia, annoyed she left so abruptly. It hurt more than anything ever has. Some days, I’m okay and I understand why she did it, rationally I know why she did it. But some days I wake up and this cloud hangs over my head, raining down with fury and sadness. I haven’t messaged her since she left, and the guilt eats me up. “Is something bothering you, Nora?”
Emily asks, her clipboard sitting on
BEYOND THE BLUES
her crossed legs.
“Same old, same old.” I remark.
“Family or Ophelia?”
Her name leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I miss her on my mouth.
“Second option.”
“Talk to me about it Nora, this is a safe space, you know that.”
I know that because I went through countless therapists before I found Emily. Emily wasn’t overbearing, but she was honest and told me what I needed to hear. Many times it led to me breaking down in this office of hers, but it helped me heal from emotions I hadn’t dealt with in years, healthily.
“I just, I’m feeling rough today. Angry at her, again. Angry at myself, just angry at the world.”
I reply, picking my nails, not making any eye contact.
“I understand that, but it’s not the world who’s treated you harshly, is it? It’s the people in it.”
“And especially the ones who brought me into the world.” I mumble.
“I feel like…”
Emily starts, taking her glasses off her face.
“You are angry with Ophelia, because she reminded you it was not your fault what happened with your family. It was their problem. They chose that. You did not choose your sexuality.”
Emily says firmly.
“I just miss her, and the only reason I’m angry at her is because I love her, and we can’t be together right now.” I cry.
“It’s bittersweet, she’s out there writing best sellers, and I’m out her touring with my band, I just don’t know I feel so pathetic that I’m crying over such minor issues, people out there have worse issues then me.”
“Nora, I understand this is difficult for you. One thing I’d like you to understand is, your pain and trauma is not comparable to others. What might hurt one person may not affect another person at all. It’s okay to be sad, it’s okay, Nora.”
I nod frantically, tears streaming down my face. Being reminded that your trauma is real, and the way you feel isn’t ‘dramatic’ is so needed, especially on tough days. We sit in the room in silence together, allowing me to let the tears flow. Eventually, after countless tissues and grounding, we come to a standstill. My head is clearer than it was when I first walked in.
*
“You’ve got this, Nora.”
Emily adds. For the first time in months, an inkling in me believes her. I have got this. Leaving the office, I say goodbye to Emily as I step outside to the crisp air. I take out my phone and type a text.
Nora- Hey, can we talk?
I press send and within minutes I get a response.
Ophelia - Always x
III
THE END