“Ryan, Ryan, deepbreath.”
“I’m so tired,Russell.”
“I know you are. Are you ready tosleep?”
“Yes.”
“Good, Ryan. Text me when you wakeup.”
“Okay,” Imumbled.
I slept for about an hour and woke up from a weird dream. I even sat up to think about if the dream could possibly be reality. In the dream, my dad showed up to meet my mom at the assisted living place. I couldn’t go back to sleep and wished that I had my journal that Russell had given me to write notes down about my dream. Since it was still fresh in my head, I typed it out on my cell phone and would transfer it to my journal when I got home today. I fell asleep for a little while and was wide awake by 6:00 a.m. and ready to go back toVegas.
I sent Russell a text before I checked out. As I stood in line at Starbucks, I felt the stress from yesterday settle in my shoulders. I ached from head to toe. My muscles ached from the manual labor of moving. I wondered if Russell would have time for a session today. I felt like I needed it. Those sessions were the only thing that could get me to fully release mystress.
And cry like a fuckingpussy.
He said I wasn’t a pussy, even if I did cry. I started a text to him several times. It was hard for me to ask him for this. Did it make meweak?
After I ordered the venti coffee, I stood to the side to wait for it and I opened up my text string withhim.
Ryan: Are you busytoday?
Russell: No, I’m free allday.
I started and stopped typing again and then my name was called for my coffee. I grabbed it and the blueberry muffin and sat down long enough for me to eat it. I continued to flounder with asking him as I inhaled the muffin. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. The partial bowl of soup from last night probably wasn’tenough.
Russell:Ryan.
Ryan:Yeah?
Russell: I’ve been watching your text dots appear and disappear for nearly ten minutes. Type it, and send it,Ryan.
Shit. I swallowed the last bite of the muffin and chased it with coffee.Just askhim.
Ryan: Can I see you today? I feel like I need a beatingsession.
Ryan:Please.
My knee bounced nervously as hetyped.
Ryan: It’s okay if you can’tthough.
I didn’t want him to think I was beingpushy.
Russell: Relax Ryan. That can easily be arranged. Come over when you get back totown.
Ryan: I’m leaving L.A.now.
Russell: Drive carefully and I’ll see you thisafternoon.
Yes! I grabbed my coffee and headed home. Three and a half hours to myself in the lonely desert made me think about everything. By the time the city of Vegas came into view, I was desperate to be pushed to the brink. I needed to get out all the shit from the past twenty-fourhours.
While I waited anxiously on his doorstep, I looked down at my attire. I had on an old ratty pair Nikes, worn jeans and a USC baseball t-shirt. Fuck. I should have stopped at home to at least change. When he opened the door, I felt like everything would be right, or better, when I leavehere.
“Come in,Ryan.”
“I’m sorry to drop in like this. Ijust—”
