February Sucks - A Sequel

"I also would like to ask you to tell Dee Collins that she is no friend. Tell her that I hope with all the hate in my body that she has a life full of sickness and sadness. I hope she ends up pathetic like me with no one loving her. I hate her with every ounce of my existence. If she were any type of friend she wouldn't have said and done the things she did. She is the only person in this world that I can truly say I hate. I hope she burns in hell.

"Tell Jim I'm sorry. I don't know why I did what I did. I can say that something came over me and somehow I thought it would be ok. But I don't know how I could ever think that and sitting here now it sounds insane and I can't explain it. I don't know what went wrong with me that I wasn't stronger for him. I knew what I was thinking was wrong. I wish someone stopped me but I shouldn't have needed to be stopped.

"Tell him that I loved him with all my heart. I know I didn't show that at the end and I would give anything in the world to go back in time. I wish this were all just a bad dream. Tell him I pray he finds someone to love. Someone who treats him with love and respect and who never makes a mistake like I did. A woman who makes him forget me and what I did to him.

"Tell him I loved him. Tell him I missed him. Tell him I thought of him all the time. Tell him when I was able to block out the memories of my mistake I just pictured him, his face, his hands, his laugh, his smile. Tell him I'll watch over him now from wherever I am.

"I pray God forgives me for what I did to Jim, Emma and Timmy, and both of you,

"I'm so sorry.

"Linda."

My eyes were filled with tears from the time I read the first "I'm so sorry". It took me twenty minutes to finally finish reading the letter. I knew what it was meant for. I knew when it must have been written. I sat there crying uncontrollably. They just let me be. I eventually got myself together and just stared at the letter.

"Which attempt was this from?" I asked meekly.

"Her second. She wrote something similar for her third with one main difference." I looked at him emotionally drained.

"What was that?" I asked not really thinking about what answer I might get from him.

"The difference was that she begged her parents to let her die if she wasn't dead yet when they found her."

"Oh my God," I whispered.

"Jim," Samantha said softly. I looked at her. "Can I ask you a question?" I nodded slowly feeling like I was going to faint. "How does this letter and what Dr Webb just told you make you feel?"

I thought for a moment, my mind going in all kinds of directions. "It makes me feel like I want to help Linda recover if I can. Whatever I can do, I will."

Dr Webb and Samantha looked at each other. "Does that mean you've forgiven her for what she did?" he asked.

I shook my head "I don't know what it means honestly. I just know I don't want her like this. I think she's paid enough of a price for what she did. I don't think she should endure any more punishment. What she did will cost her years of her life and maybe make it so she can't live happily again. I at least have the kids and some glimmer of hope of a happy future. She doesn't even have that. Make no mistake I'm angry at her for what she did. But I'm not completely heartless."

The doctor continued, "But if the two of you talk next week, won't that hurt her more from having to face what she did to you?"

I understood what he was asking but didn't have an answer. "I don't want to talk to her to hurt her. I'm not out for any more blood. But I want to talk to her to," I paused. I wasn't sure why I wanted to talk to her, I just knew I did, and I wanted to complete the conversation about what happened. But I didn't want revenge or retribution. She was now clearly damaged worse than I was. That's fitting because she started this. At least I could still function in society, she can't. We were two destroyed people, just destroyed in different ways for different reasons by the same event.

"I, I want to talk to her to understand to what extent she appreciates what she did to me and that helps us both heal. I don't know. I want to keep talking, but I don't want to. I can't explain it. I'm not sure. Can we just keep meeting and let me see, maybe we both heal from it?"

They looked at each other again. "Ok, we can do that."

I got up and walked out in somewhat of a daze. I didn't say anything to Samantha and she seemed fine not talking to me. "See you next week Jim." I didn't answer and just walked to my car.

I drove to pick up the kids at Linda's parent's house. When I got there, they were eating pizza. They gave me a big hug and I sat at the table and just stared. "You ok," Linda's dad asked. I nodded. "Jim would you like a beer?" I nodded again.

"Are you hungry?" her mom asked me.

"Not really," I said quietly.

The kids got done eating and went into the living room to play. Linda's mom looked at me concerned, "What is it Jim?"

Still a bit stunned I replied, "I read her letter from her second suicide attempt. Seeing her and talking to her was already hard enough. But that." I just shook my head. "God," I looked down. "God why all this on us? Why?"

I looked at Linda's mom. "I asked if we can meet again next week. I want to talk more."

Her dad looking surprised asked, "Why?"

Searching for words that would make sense, "I don't know exactly. I really don't know. I just know I want to." We sat there for a few minutes in silence and then I gathered the kids up.

As I started to go out the door Linda's mom asked me, "Are you going to be ok?"

I shook my head, "I won't ever be ok. I thought I couldn't feel more lost or damaged. But I do. I feel gutted. Not that Linda said anything mean to me or anything. I just feel sadder about it all. God what a waste."

I left and got the kids in the car. I knew it would be another long sleepless night. I was right, laying there was torture. Just a never ending parade of memories and questions.

On Saturday I went to a cook out at my parent's house. Emma and Timmy were excited to play with some other kids there. While it was nice to get out of the house, I wasn't really into socializing. I ended up sitting off to one side of the yard at a picnic table. As I sat there nursing a beer my Uncle Ray came over and sat down. Uncle Ray was an interesting character. I wouldn't call him the 'black sheep' of the family, but he did seem to relish his position as somewhat of an outcast. I frankly found him interesting to talk to and his candor refreshing.

He patted me on the shoulder, "How are you holding up?

"I'm fabulous," I said sarcastically. He gave me a big tooth filled smile.

He looked off into the distance. "I was talking to a buddy of mine the other day. He's going to buy a car from a friend of ours named Hank. The wild thing is that Hank had this Mustang that was a real shit-box. He had all kinds of problems with it. Suspension, fuel injection system. Real piece of shit."

I was trying to figure out why he brought this up. I really couldn't care less about this mindless dribble. But it kept my mind off other things so I figured I'd humor him for the time being.

He continued the story, "Well anyway Hank had all this shit fixed. A few months after it's all straightened out he decides he wanted to sell it and get a Dodge. A fucking Dodge! I mean yeah, the new Hellcat Chargers are cool and all but. Anyway, to each their own I guess. So anyway, he was telling us he's selling the shit-box Mustang and my one buddy says 'I'll buy it' right away. What the fuck I'm thinking. The thing was a shit-box you know. I ask him why he wants to buy it. He says, 'It's easy. I know this one will be fine. It's been gone over with a fine tooth comb and all the issues have been fixed. But if I go look around on the car lots who knows what I'll end up with. Those cars could have all kinds of issues that haven't been fixed. It would be like Russian roulette. But this Mustang will be fine. I know all its issues have been resolved and there won't been any problems again like it had before'."

At first I wondered why he was telling me this story. I sat there and started to hit me what he was trying to get me to think about. He had a caring sort of look on his face and I started to realize what he was trying to tell me.

I smiled, "But Hellcat Chargers are sweet."

"No doubt. And I have no doubt that getting one would be fun for a while. But what problems might be lurking in it? Everything is great until one day it chunks the rear diff or drops a valve. Then you're back in the same old boat dealing with a shit-box. Maybe the Mustang is the better bet since you know it won't have any issues in the future. They've all been fixed. Yes, maybe the memories of the issues with it will always be something in the memory bank that bug you. But at least you can go out and enjoy driving it in the future and never have to worry about the same issues putting you on the side of the road."

I nodded, "I think I understand." He smiled.

We sat quiet for a minute. Uncle Ray then got up, "Ok I need another fucking beer."

I thought a bit about his story. Maybe no one will confuse Uncle Ray with Confucius or some other ancient philosopher, but in a weird way there was some wisdom to what he had said to me. I set it aside and went to grab a plate of food and let my mind go blank again. I knew that I'd give his words some thought during one of my sleepless nights.

After the weekend I found that I was looking forward to going to talk to Linda. That day I got to the hospital a little early and went and sat in the lobby. One of the orderlies named Jerome came over to me. I got the impression he was a former patient and got well enough to take on a regular job. He was a little older than me and a very kind man.

"Hello, I'm Jerome. I work here. I saw you here last week. You were talking to Miss Linda. Are you here to see her again today? What is your name?"

I reached my hand out, "I'm Jim, it's very nice to meet you Jerome. Yes, I'm here to see Linda."

He smiled. "She's very nice. She doesn't say much. But she smiles at me sometimes. She waved once. I hope she gets better. Are you here to help her get better?"

"I hope so. Doctor Webb thinks maybe I can help her."

He nodded his head, "I hope so too. Ok I have laundry to do. You have a good day Mister Jim and I will say hi again if I see you."

"I would like that Jerome. Have a nice day."

I smiled as he left. Jerome clearly had some challenges but what a happy demeanor. Him saying hello certainly helped give me a more positive feeling.

Samantha got there on time and came over to me. "How are you? Ready for today?" She said with a concerned look.

"I think so. I guess we just talk and see how it helps her."

"Have you thought any about where talking to Linda could lead for your own healing?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I'm not thinking ahead on this. I'm just trusting that something good will come from it. I don't really expect anything but am just hoping I guess."

She has a sad look on her face, "I understand how you feel. But while you don't believe it, eventually you will learn to trust in a relationship again. Maybe it won't be as strong a trust at first, but someday you will. Someday someone will touch you and you'll be able to open yourself up again."

We walked down the hall to the room. Linda was already sitting there. I said, "Hello" and she smiled and greeted me as well. I looked at her face and it was different. Her eyes weren't as hollow as last week. They were more alive in some way. Maybe last week helped her. I felt good about that. Feeling that way was a little bit of a surprise.

Dr. Webb began, "Ok I thought we could start by asking each of you about last week. Jim first, can you give me your quick thoughts and feelings about last week's conversation?"

I thought for a moment. "I didn't know what to expect last week. I guess one thing that I wish could get an understanding on was why Linda did what she did. But I see that that isn't possible since she really can't explain it. It seems like she just got an urge and the people around her pushed her to follow it. The other thing I learned is that." I paused and wondered if I should say what I thought. I decided to keep going. "I learned that deep inside I still care about Linda's well-being. As mad and heartbroken as I am, I still care at some level. I guess the last thing I want to say is that I'm hopeful that talking more will help each of us heal. I see plainly that Linda has been damaged a lot by what she did. I guess both of us have been destroyed and are no longer the people we were at the beginning of that night. Those two people are dead and gone and what you see here is all that is left. It's sad to me, horrifyingly sad really what happened to us, as a couple and as individuals. What a waste. I hope that talking will help each of us move forward so we can each have some amount of happiness in our lives in the future. Not the sorrow and sadness we each live with today."

I leaned back in chair staring at the ground. I felt empty and lost but saying what I did felt good. I wondered when I would see some glimmer of hope that any amount of happiness would come back into my life. My mind replayed a bunch of scenes of Linda and I together before that night. I missed that world, that life. I knew it was gone never to return. But maybe someday could I have even a small amount of happiness? When would life grant me that?

After coming out of the fog of all these memories flashing in my mind, I realized I was crying. I wiped the tears from my face and quietly said, "Sorry."

I looked at Linda and she was in tears looking at me. She bit her lip, "I'm so sorry."

Dr. Webb then looked at Linda, "Linda how about you. What do you think about last week?"

She sat up and seemed to think for a moment. "I got to see again what I did to Jim. Seeing it now with a clearer head is." She seemed to search for a word. "Well it's sickening. As I see what I did that night it's almost like looking at another person doing what I did. I see it and hear it and think to myself, you stupid weak bitch what the hell are you doing?" She sat there quiet and almost seemed to be thinking about what to say.

She began speaking again and I started to get that weird feeling that she wasn't being completely honest. "I guess somehow my thoughts got twisted in a way that made me do what I did. I let being too weak and my insecurity break his heart. And then people around me pushed me to go be with that man." Linda then broke down sobbing and wailing. I'd seen enough.

I got up and went over and sat next to her and hugged her. I began to cry as well. I just held her until she quieted down. Once she was calmer I got up and went back to where I had been sitting. We all sat there quiet for a moment.

Dr Webb then started, "Ok. I thought we should hear from Jim about what he did when he got home that night. Jim, can you describe that?" I knew this was going to be hard.

"When I got home I looked at everything in the house and it was all tied to us, our marriage. It was like I was looking at it and just started thinking, it's all fake and all a lie. These things are meaningless. Our wedding photo, what does it mean now? Nothing. It isn't a 'home' anymore. Not a home we built together. It's just a place full of crap. That's what I thought." Linda sat quiet but tears were running down her face. I decided to try to not make this answer too long.

"I knew I couldn't live with Linda so the first thing was to get her out of the house. So I started putting all her stuff in bags to put in her car. The whole time I was yelling 'you want out of the marriage then get out' and things like that. I was just crazy running around getting her stuff to put in her car. I felt, I don't know. Out of control I guess. Like a wild animal or something."

"After I got her stuff out of the house then I went ape shit on things like pictures and that sort of thing. I was still yelling stuff like 'you want to destroy our marriage then let's destroy it' as I broke things. Eventually I ran out of things to break and I just sat down and began crying."

There was a moment of silence and Dr. Webb asked, "Did you sleep at all that night?"

I shook my head and replied, "No not at all." I was starting to run out of emotional steam.

Dr. Webb turned to Linda, "Linda do you have any questions for Jim?"

She looked over at me, "I don't have any questions. I understand why Jim did what he did. Tearing everything up and throwing his ring in the toilet. I see why he did it."

Samantha then asked, "Jim the next day when Linda came home. You told her she was 'dead' to you. Why did you say that?"

"I wanted her to understand that there was nothing left in me related to her and it was like she didn't exist anymore."

Dr. Webb followed up, "When you say 'nothing left', what do you mean?"

I nodded, "No love, no friendship, no desire to see her, nothing."

Samantha trying to clarify my answer, "So what did you feel then?"

"Hatred, anger, loss, disgust, rage, sadness," I replied intending to keep talking but at a loss on what else to say.

Samantha continued to question, "So you told Linda she was 'dead to you' because you would hate her forever and never love her or want to be friends ever again?"

"That's how I felt at that moment yes." I replied somewhat in a daze.

Dr. Webb and Samantha looked at each other. Dr. Webb then asked, "You said 'in that moment'. What does that mean?"

I looked up with tears in my eyes. "Huh? What's the question? I'm sorry I missed that."

He restated, "You said 'in that moment'. What does that mean? What moment?"

I just stared, "Then. When I was yelling at her that's how I felt."

Not letting the topic drop Samantha pressed, "But you used the word 'moment'. Does that mean you felt or have felt something different at different moments since?"

Samantha knew the turmoil in me and there was no getting around this. I answered, "Yes. I don't feel like I did that first time I saw Linda after she left me."

"In what way? Can you describe it?" Dr. Webb asked.

I wasn't sure how to answer this question. I hadn't sorted through what I was feeling before these sessions let alone how these were making me feel. I quietly said, "Let's just say that I don't hate Linda anymore like I did. I stopped hating her at some point sort of recently. I guess she wasn't dead to me then. She was still in my thoughts. Can we just say that?"

Dr. Webb nodded, "Ok we'll just leave that topic there but maybe in the future we can come back to it. Would that be ok with you Jim?" I nodded feeling somewhat more peaceful about something. I wasn't sure why I felt calmer about things. But I did.

The rest of the session was relatively uneventful. At the end Dr Webb looked at me. "Jim, I have one last question for you about today." I nodded for him to go ahead and ask it. "Why did you hug Linda earlier?"

I hadn't thought about it but I suppose getting asked wasn't a surprise. I did the best I could to answer it. "I didn't want to see her so sad. As much as I want her to understand what she did to me, I hate seeing her cry."

"Why?" Samantha interjected.

"Because she is obviously sorry for what she did and I think understands what her actions did to me. While I want to talk more about this for both of our benefits, I have no interest in making her cry. I understand she will cry when we talk, but I'm not trying to make her hurt more than she already is. Like I said earlier, I'm not out for any more blood. I want her to know she isn't alone in this."

"In what?" Samantha asked.

"In the process of healing."

"Do you want to help her heal?" Dr. Webb asked.

"Yes I do."

"Why do you want to help her heal?" Samantha cut in.