That one came in at 2:20. He had stayed on the phone, reading and talking to me until then. The next two texts came an hour apart from each other, with the first one at 5:00 a.m.
Russell: Good morning, Ryan. I’m off for my morning run. If you wake while I am out, I still expect your text of something that you like about yourself.
Russell: I am home, all showered, and enjoying a perfect cup of coffee while I wait for your text.
For reasons that I don’t completely understand, he calms me. His texts do the same. I quickly began going through all of the reasons that I have used for his daily question. I really wasn’t feeling too excited about me at all this morning. Especially after I woke him up a quarter to one in the morning and then fell asleep on him. But, I had to think of something.
Ryan: I like how you make me feel after you give me a session.
Ryan: Even if you make me cry.
I added that and hit send. It was the truth though, and I ached for a session now. It was Saturday and I didn’t have to be at work today. The text response came right away.
Russell: It pleases me to hear you say that. Answer when I call.
The second my phone lit up, I accepted the call.
“Morning,” I said into the phone.
“Good morning, Ryan. Are you rested?”
“Yes,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck. The guilt had returned from last night. “I’m sorry that I woke you up and then fell asleep on you.”
“Relax, Ryan. There is nothing to apologize for. I wanted to calm you down. I could hear the distress in your trembling voice last night and it gutted me. I want you to reach out to me in the night.”
“Yeah, but I fell asleep on you. That wasn’t very nice of me.”
“Ryan, it is exactly what I wanted to happen.”
I frowned and then listened to his words.
“I wanted to take your mind off the nightmare and I know my voice calms you. Reading the article to you was the perfect way for me to get your mind away from the boxcar and put you to sleep.”
I thought about what he was saying. He basically read me a story to fall asleep. I couldn’t decide if I liked the idea of it or if it bothered me. Did he think I was a baby? My mind began running away with itself.
“Ryan,” he called my name.
“Yes? Sor—”
I caught myself before I said the dreaded “s” word.
“Get dressed and come over.”
“Can we have a session?” I quickly asked. It was easier for me to ask that over the phone than when I was staring at him.
“Yes, Ryan. That can be arranged.”
