Tassa: I spent a day and half in the center. She could only hold me for seventy-two hours without my permission, unlike before when I had endangered my own self. I played the part. I lost track of time. I went to the group session and I was angry.
I hated them for keeping me from him.
She was keeping me from him.
He could be gone. On a plane… or gone forever!
Disappeared. What if something happened to him and I was in here.
The worn magazine lay beside the bed as if I had never left it. It was the first inked mag I’d ever read. The first article. It drew my thoughts back into the pit of despair. Is that what she wanted? Me to spiral back out of control and have the urge to end it all again.
What if I missed my shot and it was the only one I would have gotten?
What if… my mind had played many scenarios in my head.
Her mistake, but my gain was that she didn’t take my phone away.
Sucker! I could follow their posting of fresh ink online.
“Tassa,” Patricia said louder. This means she had been talking to me and I was zoning out. “Phones are a privilege…”
I hold a finger up and shake my head. “Um, no, don’t lie… or white lies me. My property and I didn’t sign up for this. So the emersion therapy was not what I asked for. I am fine. Great even.”
She seemed to let that one go… for now, and move on to someone else. I was being defiant and angry.
I did all the things she had advised me to do. I did move my stuff back into Preston’s Penthouse without him knowing until he peeked into the room and saw my plastered walls.
“So your back then?” He had replied… after all he hadn’t seen the mess I’d made of the house he had bought me to live in. Across town. In the suburbs where all the yoga pants and ponytails go to die. I was in hell. I hated it there. No city hustle and bustle. It was quiet and alone.
I always made it back for my group sessions so Patricia didn’t need to know that I was following Shace…. Mmmm just thinking his name on my lips was like cherries and cream sliding down my throat. I moaned softly at the thought of tasting him. I wasn’t really at the penthouse much anyway, I was following him on a plane, train, car, trolly… following the love of my life, he just didn’t know it yet.
“Let’s talk about your brother?” Patricia probed again, the group had left and I just shook my head. I didn’t want to play this game. Other than the first omission of the issues we endured before Preston had taken me away… I wouldn’t talk about it again. No.
“Pass…” I muttered as I tied the strings together on day two of a friendship bracelet I was making for the colored-haired one at the shop. Maybe if I made her a present she’d stop mean mugging me every time she saw me standing outside the shop. I almost made it inside once… but I chickened out walked up to the door she held it open and I walked away.
Peanut butter brittle pants.
Or maybe it was her face and she’d invite me for a smoke, or drinks… I could have girlfriends who didn’t want my man.
“Natasha…” she started and I gasped at her use of my full name now… that we knew one another. “Tassa, would you like to talk about Shace?” I didn’t like how she said his name as if he wasn’t real.
“No,” I replied not with her, not with anyone.
No one would understand what he was to me.
How his art makes my heart pound out of my chest.
How every gift I leave I leave a bit of myself with him.
That I stole his hoodie to be closer to him because the one time I did have the chance. Up close and personal with him, I froze. I wasn’t paying attention. I had just taken the dark material from the stool at the back alley of the shop. I just walked up and picked it up. The colored-haired girl had just come out the exit with a joint or vape pen in her fingers. I couldn’t remember or wanted to because her face turned sour and I spun on my heel to leave. I walked right into his chest. A small squeal had left my mouth… as I leaned into him, tiny fingers reaching out to steady myself.
Ya, that… ha. Stupidly I sniffed him, it was instinctual. He smelled of oil, disinfectant, and colors. His chest vibrated with words spoken but they were lost on me as he moved past me and into the door she had just come out of. I just stood there dreamy-eyed. Hoodie tucked up under my arms as if I hadn’t just stolen it from him.
What if that had been my only chance and now… well, I sucked at life.
Miss color may have said something to me but I didn’t hear it, I just sped walked away.
Patricia would pull me back into the discussion or try to when my mind would flutter away. she just watched me for the rest of the session. In the end, she spoke about releasing me. Only if she was sure I wasn’t a danger to me or… Shace.
“Do not contact him!” I demanded… and she seemed shocked I would even say that.
“Natasha,” she began and I squished my face up and looked away. “Tassa, what would I say? You have an admirer and she may try to contact you? She is a danger to those around her, get a restraining order?” Her questions continued, she was protecting me. I didn’t like it. Her sarcasm was dropped in buckets of shit show that was me. I dreamily held my chin in my palm as I looked out the window. I pulled my hoodie over my mouth with a sigh. I made all the promises needed. I would not follow him around. I would not go to the shop. I would not leave gifts illegal or otherwise, for someone, I did not know.
I’ll be a good girl. I rolled my eyes, took the new prescription, and was released into… yep, Preston’s care. She would tell him everything. My diagnosis, BPD, Manic bipolar, and a touch of psychosis. My medications. My… failures.
I was spiraling down the pit as she allowed me some common room time. I sat with my legs under me as I finished the friendship bracelet that I’d leave for the colored-haired one. As I wove the colors together my eyes went wide as I found myself alone in the room, all except, Preston who was leaning against the door frame. My face was red hot, with anger and shame.
I lied so… she did in return. Well played! His lean frame was leaned against the doorway. “What trouble have you gotten into now?” I looked at the backstabbing Patricia, my therapist with wild rage in my eyes she had mirth in them dancing at his playful tone.
“Seriously?” I demanded as I stared at him. He looked almost amused but the air was concerning.
Patricia smiled, I fucking hated her right now, as they got closer to the couch I sat on and it was like a telly intervention when they both sat in the chairs opposite each other my feet kicked up on the coffee table as I tried to hide. Preston was rubbing his face with a heavy hand. His ink dark shadows of himself. I wasn’t regulating my emotions an outburst was building as I continued to watch this unfold. Fight or flight. I was panting. I tried to calm.
“I am sorry!” I screamed. “I’m so fucked up… Why did she do this to us?” I blurted out. This was part of my BPD emotions that didn’t stay in place. Outbursts were normal. I screamed pulling at my hair. Patricia just stopped talking for a moment. Let me have my moment and get back to business. Telling Preston that much of my quirks were undiagnosed issues.
I would be getting an earful from him having to be a part of the system over me, again. I’d been out of the system for many years now, and when I had turned eighteen we had hit the bottle hard because DHS, CPS, and all the other acronym services couldn’t threaten to take me away from Preston if he didn’t shape up.
“As I told you over the phone I am concerned with her obsession…” I tuned the rest out as I dropped my boots to the carpet and looked at Preston. He was staring at me, not with anger… and I was surprised. Mother had fucked us up… we had different fathers and I never knew mine. He did know his… and he was a piece of work that took mothers’ money and took other things that he didn’t own. I rubbed my face and tried to scrub the thoughts. The memories away. Not here. Not with him… NO! My father could have been… Her pimp, her dealer… the list went on who it could have been. As I mouthed ‘I’m sorry it was as if he was thinking the same thing. He was hard on me but I knew why. He wanted me to better myself. Do something more. Don’t fall down the rabbit hole that our skank of a mother had.
I was falling Alice style and following the rabbit… and he was divine.
