The words pour out of me. A full song forms in less than twenty minutes, the same amount of time it takes for the last of the fall sun to disappear beyond the horizon. The lamp is now the only source of light in the room.
I had feared that if I got better here, if I no longer had my traumatic past to avoid and grapple with, I’d lose all my creativity. My worst fears seemingly came true when I couldn’t pull from anything. I’d sat for countless nights in this room, staring at the blank pages in front of me.
But maybe all I needed was space away from my creative spark so I could reconnect with it again. The lyrics staring back at me are more deep, more heartfelt, than almost anything I’ve written before.
Maybe things will get better after all.
Maybe there is a brighter future once I leave.
Wednesday
“Thank you again for everything.” I stretch out my arms, forcing Lee to hug me again in the carpark. Rob takes my suitcases, loading them into the SUV behind me.
“You look after yourself now, won’t you?” Lee slips her hands back into the pockets of her grey cardigan, pulling it tightly across her.
Rob flings my black hoodie at me to stop me from shivering in my white T-shirt and grey shorts. The morning dew on the plant leaves is slowly disappearing as the sun breaks through the clouds.
I slip the hoodie on and turn back to Lee.
“I’ll be in touch this week to book a session,” I say.
Lee gives me a thumbs-up and then waves goodbye.
“It’s good to have you back, boss,” Rob says, opening the car door to let me in.
“It’s good to see you too.” I shake his arm with my hand as I step in.
God, I’ve missed him. His ever-reliable presence in my life.
This surely is the longest we’ve been apart in ten years.
“What’s this?” I buckle my seatbelt as Rob gets in next to me and shuts the door.
“It’s your new phone. New number too.”
I lift it up. The phone doesn’t recognize my face, but it unlocks on the first try when I enter 1017.
Rob reaches for the heating dial and cranks it to the max as the driver pulls the car out toward the exit. I grab the door handle as the gates approach.Please don’t let there be hordes of paparazzi trying to get a shot of me leaving the treatment facility.
I sink back into the chair once we’ve driven out and made our way halfway down the empty desert road. It’s void of any people, vehicles, or most importantly, paparazzi.
“Are we not heading to the airport?” I notice we’re not going the same way as when we arrived here. We’re heading west rather than south. I move the phone around, trying to pick up a signal.
“The team thought it was better to drive to Albuquerque rather than have you fly there. That way we can avoid you getting papped at the airport,” Rob says, losing himself in his phone.
“How long is the drive gonna be?” I catch the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror.
“About six hours, sir.” He turns his attention back to the road.
Ugh.
Six hours. Stuck in this car. With the desert staring back at me from every direction. And a new phone, with no apps other than the preinstalled ones, and no reception to download anything from the app store.
Great.
I ignore the mail icon, going straight to the text icon, and notice two messages. One is from Paul and the other is from an unknown number.
Who would have my new number?
