“Worked through your issues.”
I stared into my half-finished whiskey sour. The lemon floated in the drink, bobbing up and down. My trembling hand was making the glass shake. “I thought I had.”
But maybe I hadn’t. It seemed like every time something triggered my memory of Harper, I pushed it down or ignored it or ran away. I knew those were unhealthy coping mechanisms. Even after years, the wounds still hadn’t healed. Maybe they never would.
“I think Morris is right,” Natalie said.
“About what?”
“You should write a song together. About him. About Harper.”
“All my songs are about Harper.”
“Your songs are about pain and anger, grief and loss.”
“What else would they be about?”
“Love,” she said simply. ”Acceptance. Releasing all those feelings you’ve been suppressing and dealing with them.”
“Catharsis,” I murmured.
“Yes,” she nodded emphatically.
“I don’t know…” I said hesitantly.
“I’m sure your fans would love it,” she said encouragingly. “You’d probably get a lot of positive reviews.”
“Why does that matter?”
"Don't you want everyone talking about how great you and the band are?" She gave me a knowing look. "Don't you want to prove yourself to everyone?"
“You think you know me so well?”
“You’re not hard to read,” she said. “Everyone knows how hard you work. You push yourself and your band to your limits.”
“Since when is working hard a bad thing?”
“It’s not, if you’re doing it for the right reasons,” she said. “But maybe, you’re always focusing on your work, you’re always focusing something outside of yourself, because you want to try and forget about what’s going on inside of you.”
"What are you, my therapist?”
“I’m Morris’s girlfriend. Fiancée,” she corrected herself. “I’ve seen the same thing with him. He’s so dedicated to that youth center, to those kids. He wants to save them from the streets, like he couldn’t save Harper. It’s a coping mechanism.”
I went silent and thought about what she’d said.
Was I using my work to deflect my feelings? It was true I hadn’t had nightmares in years. Not since we’d started the band, really. I thought I was over it. I was so focused on hitting it big.
It wasn’t until I’d met Liam that all those old feelings began to rise to the surface. I hadn’t learned how to deal with them properly, so I dealt with them by running away.
“Morris is so full of pain and anger and grief,” Natalie said. “Just like you. But he’s found a healthy outlet by helping these kids. He’s learned to face his demons head on. I don’t know if throwing yourself into your work to distract yourself is good for you in the long run. You’re not dealing with your problems. You’re suppressing them.”
I took a long pull of my drink to avoid having to respond.
Natalie was right. I thought I was over it. I thought I’d come to terms with Harper’s death.
But I’d only been ignoring my problems. Focusing on something else.
“Shit,” I cursed quietly. I put my head down on the bar, ignoring a sticky spot on my cheek and closing my eyes.
