Dear John Letter

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"Yes, that's fine. If you could just have your receptionist tell me when it is when she calls for my session that would work." Damien said, itching to leave.

(We can skip to the first class or another session if you want after this)
 
(Sounds fine by me.)

"Yeah, I'll have her call you." She told him with a nod, suddenly feeling very odd. "You go ahead. I'll see you next week." She said, offering a small wave and heading toward the counter.
 
Damien made it through the week just barely, the nightmares came back and were worse. As he sat and waiting for Dr.Owens he closed his eyes. Of course the images came back, which made him sigh and rub his forehead.
 
She signed them up and made a note of the time and day. The following morning she had her receptionist call him to tell him both appointment times. This was technically their last appointment together, unless he felt he needed more time. He'd been doing well enough that she doubted it was necessary.

She buzzed him in and waited for him to be let into her office.
 
He walked in slowly, taking his time. When his sat down he actually laid back for once. "Hello Dr.Owens." Damien said, rubbing his hands over his face. "How has your week been?"
 
She smiled at him as he entered the room. "Hi Damien." She responded, "it's been alright. And yours?" She asked. He was visibly relaxing against the couch he sat on, but was rubbing his hands on his face. It was slightly concerning, at least for her.
 
"I can't sleep." Damien told her, with a sigh. "I can't eat either. I've been making new things but I can't seem to do it. I barely get up to walk Jax anymore, and I almost didn't come here. Dr. Owens... I don't know what's wrong, but I hate feeling like this, not even volunteering helped."
 
Worry creased her brow and she was genuinely confused. He'd been doing so well. "Damien, you didn't call. I'd have gotten you in earlier, or met you somewhere." Jess didn't know what to think. He had refused medication, so a sleep aid was out of the question. A dozen treatments and possible causes were running through her mind.
 
"I thought it would get better." Damien said honestly. "I was fine and then all of a sudden it was like a black cloud was on me. My doctor said my hand probably won't get much better, I don't know if that caused it or just everything came back crashing down..." He hesitated, taking a breath and decided not to tell her what had come in the mail for him, what had contributed to his crash.
 
"Is there any other possible cause?" She asked, sensing the bit of hesitation. Maybe it wasn't hesitation and she'd managed to read too far into it. His hand not getting much better was a logical cause, but he had been working pretty well with it this far. Jess was a bit concerned by the fact he just expected things to get better.
 
Damien looked off to the side, towards the window. "It's not something I want to talk about." He murmured, still pretty angry about it. The fact he had received it was enough to tell him the few people he still trusted weren't trustworthy. "I don't think it's why." He lied straight through his teeth.
 
"So I think we both know what might have caused the regression. And I'm not going to force you into telling me about it. But I can tell you this: if you want to get past this, you're going to have to find someone to talk to." She told him gently, and figured she would leave it at that.
 
"There's no one else." He muttered. "You're the only person who actually cares." Damien let out a breath and glanced at her. "I had a few friends before I went off, I told one close one that I was coming here when I got back and to stop by if he had the chance. Apparently he didn't think I cared who knew so he gave it to my ex fiancé. She... Well she's getting married and thought I might want to come." As he spoke he tensed up and had trouble controlling his anger.
 
"F-"Jess had to cut herself off when he actually explained what was going on, rethink her sentence, and sigh. "That's definitely your black cloud. I guess it's kind of obvious that you're not going?" She asked, having to double check.
 
Damien shook his head. "I'm not going to go if I can help it, but you don't know how she is. She's a manipulator. I just wish I could go and show her that I'm better off... The issue is that I'm not. I'm not doing great and she would expose that. The only thing that keeps me going is that they guy she is marrying is very old and very rich. She isn't marrying for love or anything, just money."
 
She nodded. "How on earth would she manipulate you into going to her wedding?" She asked, confused. That didn't make sense to her, not only because she didn't know of anyone with that much dedication to it, but because she didn't grasp why anyone who had inflicted that much pain on someone would want to cause more.
 
"She usually brings up my parents, or some random thing I told her when we were dating. Three years is a long time to know someone and two of those we were serious. She knows how to get under my skin and it works most of the time, as much as I hate to admit it." Damien told her, running a hand through his hair. "For instance, she's having the wedding in Hawii, which is where we were planning on having it. If I don't respond to the RSVP she'll probably call and say how she wants me to be there and wants me to have fun with her for old times sake."
 
She almost couldn't believe he'd dated someone that manipulative. He was such a down to earth guy, it had never really crossed her mind that his ex would have been that bad. "Totally off the record and non-therapist moment of the day: you have two options there. Be petty and find a pretty girl to take with, or go and be miserable. You've made it pretty clear that you're going to be convinced to go, whether you wanted to or not. Maybe this is what you need. Closure. It's pretty low that she kept the destination wedding, though."
 
"I know." Damien muttered, resting his head in his hands. "The issue is I just got back and I don't want to date anyone. The only way I could get a girl to do that would be to pay her and I don't want to go into that." He said with an aggravated sigh. "There just isn't a good solution."
 
She felt bad for him. It wasn't fair that he had just gotten into a somewhat normal routine and someone had to come in and mess it up. "So tell her you have unbreakable plans and don't go? Sorry, I'm trained in child psychiatry, not dating."
 
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