Regrets of The Past: Part I
Before You Read
I'd just like to thank everyone for their support and awesome comments left on numerous hubs. I've just surpassed 10,000 Pageviews!! I feel really awesome about it and can't wait to get more views in the future. I'll be posting more on that personal accomplishment soon. I just wanted to to introduce to you a short story I've been writing these past few weeks. It's my FIRST EVER. I've always been weary about writing short stories because I felt I wouldn't write well in a shorter format. Now that I've learned to treat a short story like a novel (but shorter), I think I've gotten the hang of it. So take a look at Part I of Regrets of The Past. Leave me comments on what you think of it! It would be highly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
When I first entered the building, I noticed immediately that Doctor Brown had renovated the place a bit. It'd been quite some time since I'd seen her. I guest that's what happens when two friends live their own lives. It's not that we decided to not be friends, it's just what happens when you grow older. Maintaining those friends become harder especially when marriages occur, children conceived. Shiela and I see each other on a semi-yearly basis. Usually it's for someone's birthday, engagement party, or a reunion among all of our other friends from "back in the day". Today Sheila would become Dr. Brown, my psychologist and mentor. Over the years I would have sought her guidance and logical means to solving a problem. Though today, I really need a professional.
Lo the many years Sheila and I have been friends, I've found many loves and had been very happy. Though none of those loves lasted longer than a year or two. I must say that I've realized over the years that there is a reason for this, one I cannot identify. It's been harder to come to terms with the reasoning behind all things that occur over time. Unfortunately my battle with love was never about bad luck or my partner's inability to commit to me. The reason is deeper, I think. That's the whole reason I had come down here to see Sheila in the first place. I have to figure this.
I know it has something to with me.
The walls were mauve in color, a beautiful tint that complemented the plethora of portraits and paintings that hung on the walls directly behind the receptionist's desk. Sheila always had good taste. I smiled a little bit when I saw a picture of her son, now a teenager, smiling as widely as his mother always did in those days. He was a handsome young man, intelligent, and a great deal like his mother. I continued through the hall and up to the receptionist desk.
Dr. Brown's receptionist heard my approach, glancing up and smiling at me. I got the impression she remembered me from the last time I had visited. That time it wasn't business, but just a quaint lunch between friends.
"It's so good to see you again," she said.There was an excitement in her voice. I was pretty used to this; People really like me.
"Thank you, I said. "It's good to see you too."
"Sheila is with another client. If you'll have a seat, she'll be with you shortly."
I sat, though I'm still in awe of my decision to come here in the first place. It's very unlike me to seek the help of friends, close or otherwise, for an issue so serious. There's always the fear of appearing whiny of vulnerable. That's what I try my best to avoid. My friends don't perceive me that way, but I'd rather not give them inkling. I want to appear strong and sometimes hardened if I can. My ego could never take it.
I've always had a deep seated fear of spilling my most delicate thoughts, exposing myself as an over-dramatic, overzealous person. It's crazy right? I should just be myself right? I wish I had an answer.
I gaze at the clock, 9:30AM, just as my appointment book said. I'd made it a few weeks ago after an ordeal. I shudder to even bring the thought to surface. Now isn't the best time. The room was eerily silent save for Shelia's assistant who typed away. What typing would she have to do anyway? God, she must type sixty words per minute. I heard indistinct voices coming from behind the cherry wood door directly across from me. Dr. Sheila Burnett Psy.D.
Burnett, right. I had forgotten about the change in names. She married a few years back. I've only met the husband a handful of times. A busy man from what I hear. Thoughts of the past came up. I remember Sheila working so hard for that B.S. in Psychology. She was sing then, had a different last name, and taking care of her son all alone. Times have truly changed. The door knob turned and Sheila walked out accompanied by her client, a voluptuous woman with a wide grin on her face. Must have went well.
The woman was dressed in a floral dress. One of those dresses best suited for wearing in the warm spring weather. Her light brown skin tone matched the color of the walls. She was a beautiful woman and her smile made her look all the better. She was taller than Sheila and spoke in a thick New Jersey Accent. At least that's what I gathered. Her voice was a little elevated. I could everything she was saying.
"Oh yes, I do love the recipe! It was so great of you to offer it to me." The woman smiled.
"It's my pleasure, really. Good food always puts a person in a good mood. Same time next week then?
"Oh yes, definitely."
"Ok, thank you. Let Sheila know and have a good afternoon."
The woman continued off with a smile on her face. She stopped at Sheila's assistant's desk, halting the incessant typing that had been taking place there. I hadn't realized that my gaze had followed the woman until Sheila called my name. I was shaken back to reality. I looked at her and stood, stepped, and staggered towards her. My clumsiness was alive today. I hugged her tightly, wrapping my arms around her as tightly as I could. We'd always shared this sort of embrace. It was how close we'd always been. We released each other.
"It's so good to see you," she said. "How have you been?" Her smiled held steady as it always did.
"I've been good," I said. "Same ole, Same ole." I always use that phrase. It was my way of saying as little as possible. I never cared much for elaboration despite my preferred profession."
"How's the writing?"
"I took some time for myself. I plan on getting back into it sooner or later."
"Well that's good to hear. How about we head in and get started. I'm anxious to ask what brought you here."
I think I smirked a little. She led me through the doors and into her office. It was just as beautiful as her lobby. She had paintings hung all around, bookcases, and several plants scattered about the sunlit room. A coffee pot sat on one of her end tables, only halfway full. She really loves her coffee. A comfortable chair sat in the center of the room across a psychology chair, that thingy that people lay on. I can never think of the name of that thing.
I lay on the leathery thing and Sheila sat across from me, crossing her legs mechanically. No visible wrinkle on her denim pants. She wore a black jacket over a plum-colored shirt. She reached over at her desk and grabbed her pad and a pencil. She prepared herself.
"So when we spoke last, you didn't sound too well. It seemed like you were anxious about something. Want to start there?"
I sighed. My heart started beating faster just at the thought of it all. I hated feeling vulnerable. I guess I really didn't have a choice this time.
"I broke up with Derrick." There was a surprised look on her face. She scribbled something down.
"I see," she said. "Now if I remember correctly, Derrick and you have been together for a very long time. The longest relationship you've ever had if my memory serves me. You brought him with you to my wedding. You and him broke up? How did this come to be?"
'It's a long story," I said.
"I have no more appointments today. Tell me everything that happened."
To be Continued...