Dear Joe

Hello Joe,
I'm writing to you again. At least that's what my therapist told me to do. He said, "Talk to the person you are having negative feelings towards." He meant write it down in a stupid journal. My parents told me I had to, but I don't want to. So here I am, writing, but for what? You won't know what the hell I'm feeling or saying to you. You were my best friend. Where are you now?


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2. Another One Bites The Dust

    Maxine's POV

  "I don't want to go." Isn't that what every teenager says? But fuck I really mean it.

"You have to go, you said it's been helping you.." And that's what she always says. Truth is that it really hasn't helped at all. I'm still the same Maxine. "Nothing will get me to persuade you?" That's when she says, "No Max, there isn't. We go through this every Thursday." Shocking she said it this time too. "Fine I'll just go then, let me grab my stuff."

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Therapy, every Thursday I have therapy. After everything that happened the last couple years they, my mom and dad, have signed me up for therapy. I really just don't see the point. It's a hour out of my life that I'll never get back, and it doesn't help anything at all. I could just tell them, but they'd just think it was another excuse. 

"Max, how are you this time? Any headaches?" That is my therapist, Richard. He's not the sunniest person, but I guess I could consider him a friend. If I had to. "No, I had a couple bloody noses, but I figured it's normal." My anti-depressants have some side effects. I haven't had any yet, but I'm sure it's coming. "Sure in this heat I could understand that. Enough about medication, how are you?" He asks me sitting in his gray oh-I'm-totally-a-therapist-chair.  The one they always sit in in movies. "I've been the same, nothing has changed. Although I wish it would." He looks over at me with his stern hazel eyes. "What do you mean by that?" Ugh, I feel so awkward just putting myself out there. 

"I just hate feeling this way. I hate Joe, I hate him. He's the one who did this to me. I just feel so..I don't know how to put it..it's not sad. When I was fifteen, that was when I was sad. Then it just got worse from there. I just started sinking into the pits of myself. I was depressed, I can admit that, but now..I'm just not sad. I don't feel droopy all the time. I just feel numb, and I know that's what every 'depressed teen' says. But I mean it, I just don't feel anything. I want to feel something. When I feel pain I take it in, hey it's at least a feeling. Do you see what I mean?" I looked up at him, he was staring intently. "Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I'm sorry I truly am. I hope venting like this is helping you somehow." Quite honestly that did feel pretty good. "Actually, it did. Maybe things can change after all." He sent me a smile, one of his warm smiles. I sent him one back. 

"Well that's all we have time for today. See you next Thursday." He said getting up from his chair. "Definitely, I'll be here. Just like every Thursday. I can't believe it's already been a hour." Yes I can believe it. It seems like it's been eternity just sitting here. "Well bye Mr. Fern." I said as I walked out of his office.

"It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't zippedy doo dah. Seriously I don't want to go back." I said getting into my mom's car. "Well I don't know what to tell you. Guess what we're having for dinner!" Ew she did one of those awkward excited claps. "Let me guess is it steak? Or maybe tacos." We always have steak. "Nope, spaghetti! See we can actually have something other than steak." Did she just read my mind? "Okay then let's go home Miss Soexcitedoverspagetti."

As we drove off I looked out my window. My hometown is actually quite beautiful, something I take for granted. Its luscious trees, grass greener than a ripe watermelon. Flower vines twisting throughout the freeway makes the cars seem more beautiful. I wish I could take a picture right now. Looking out the passenger side window always seems to ease my mind. The last thing I saw before I let my eyes shut was the beautiful blue sky.   

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