I slump against the counter when she disappears around the corner. As Cassidy dishes up my dinner and takes care of me while I'm not feeling well, a new war rages in my mind.
My brain will never rest, not with the anxiety that rattles me daily. But...Cassidy might have given me the weapon I need to at least breathe.
Not all thoughts are facts.
Seven
VIOLET
“That one is pretty," Cassidy murmurs, looking over my shoulder at the colorful display.
I hum, studying my options and waiting for one to jump out at me. This is the third store I've drug Cassidy to with me this morning. To keep her happy, I bought her an iced latte and promised we'd get lunch on our way home.
She's been eyeing me since I woke up and demanded she come shopping for notebooks with me. Not much gets me out of the house during days one through three of my period, so I understand her confusion.
Then there's also the fact that I haven't told her why I need a new notebook. I have a stack of unused ones at home, but none of them feel right for my inspiration.
"So, V..." Cassidy sounds so gentle, making me smile. "Care to tell me why we're running around Detroit looking for a notebook? Is there a specific one I should be helping you look for?"
I shake my head. "I won't know until I see it."
"Oookay. Is this like a hormonal thing?"
At that, I giggle and roll my eyes. "How would this be a hormonal thing?"
The ice in her cup jostles as she throws a hand in the air in exasperation. "I don't know, Violet. What's with the notebook fixation at seven in the morning on a damn Sunday?"
"It's almost nine," I point out while walking toward the next display of notebooks. These are a little smaller which I like better than the full size. I need to be able to bring it around with me in my fanny pack.
"You woke me up atseven!"
Glancing over my shoulder at her, I smirk when I see the bewildered expression on her face. I also notice that she has a cute notebook with bows on it tucked under her arm. The coffee in her hands is almost gone too.
"I'll explain once I find it. Shh." I shoo her away with a hand and my debit card. "Go to the coffee shop and get me some donut holes and whatever you want. Please."
Cassidy snatches my card and skips away to the checkout counter to buy her new find. I stare longingly after her and wonder when the last time I bounced happily through a store was.
I miss how bubbly I used to be. That was the word everyone used to describe me.Bubbly.
After slipping out of Jamie's bed the other night and walking home in the super early morning sunlight, I'vecome to realize just how much I dislike who I am without those bubbles.
Holding on to my annoyance at how everyone else misses the happiness I used to radiate is a defense mechanism. My therapist told me so. I haven't spoken to her in about eight months, but I think she would approve of this idea I have.
Every time I feel the bubbles rising to the surface, I pop them with a sharp comment or a wicked taunt. I would like to be happy again. Drowning the anxious, mean thoughts that try to contend with my desired positivity, I take a deep breath and turn back to my mission.
I deserve to be happy.
It's with that thought, thatfactualthought, that I find what I've been looking for. Purple and white, the small notebook stands out like a beacon of hope. I had hoped to find one with bubbles on it; instead, this one has flowers.
It reminds me of Mama. The woman who has become the brightness I need in these dark years like I was for her.
Now I just need Cassidy to come back with my money. Then, I'll be on my way to vanquish these nasty anxious thoughts that have been trying to ruin my life for seven years.
No more.Hopefully.
Explaining my plans to Cassidy makes me feel a bit odd. Of course she just nods along and smiles like my idea isn't weird, but I'm uncomfortable.
"Hey, Violet?" she calls to me, snapping me out of my weird feelings. When I look at her, she grabs my hand. "Thank you for sharing. I'm really glad my random word vomit last night sparked some motivation."
