What Remains of Me

o the facility be

was the only place th

was actually helping me breathe again. Therapy hadn't failed me-if anything, it was working. It was helping me

I had made enough progress to go home, to try again. To fix something. But life met me

in, not because I was bleeding, but because I

g about walking into the warm lights of the reception. The smell of lavender and the soft hum of wind chimes by the open windows. My room was

across from Lora-my th

er pen rested beside her notepad like she didn't need

I said quietly, my fingers curle

ted slightly

I want to pack it up, maybe label it 'happened,' and leave it behind. I know it's alway

. "That sounds li

in me. It wasn't just words. "I'm not

roud o

y, it hit different. Maybe be

oor retreat where members from our branch and another branch of the same facility from another town would meet. It was held at

eady knew, but with someone completely new. A fresh voice.

even feel like talking. So when I saw

The guy f

s face broke into

iverse had just pulled off

u... what are

le a little sheepish now. "Well, it turns

ter that night... I just didn't. Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't

e read my

time off. Like a break from everything. I lost my wife a few months back and life became dark. The therapy facility has

Why didn't you say a

o dump mine on you too. I guess... I didn't want to make it about me. But

eality of it sinking in.

ng, just... stating. "But meeting you again like this? Maybe i

t wasn't forced. It w

cars. We just talked. And when we didn't talk, we walked quietly ar

Gently. We'd go on small friendship dates, as we called them-coffee at a corner shop, sitting

people trying to breathe again. Two people who had s

wife-her name was Renee. She died in a car accident. He loved her de

s grief-born friendship. We didn't rush

ieve that maybe-just maybe-this friendship was the thin

e. Not

people trying to

eth