Page 43 of The Blessing

Chapter 19

scars

With every tattoo session I had, I felt myself growing stronger. Ronnie and Grey sat by my side each time, watching as my tattoo was slowly completed. I felt my grief begin to transform into something else, something that felt a hell of a lot like acceptance. My brother is gone, but I’m not, and Grey needs me to be strong for him. As soon as that last dot of ink was needled into my skin, I felt like a completely different man. I walked away from the last session feeling stronger and more in control of my own life. Ink therapy mixed with actual therapy has transformed my life so much already. If only my cravings for alcohol would disappear—then my life would feel perfect. Maybe Dr. Russell is right. Maybe attending A.A. meetings would be more beneficial to me than I’ve been allowing myself to believe.

Therapy has been a slow progression, but I’ve learned to trust Dr. Russell. I feel like he’s my friend, although, I know he’s only there for me in a professional manner because my family’s paying him. He seems invested though—more than I imagined a therapist to be. There’s just something in his eyes when he looks at me during our sessions that suggests he cares—like a father would look at their son. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. I don’t have many friends, so it’s nice to imagine that Dr. Russell is one of them.

“You seem more at peace with yourself,” he comments as he watches me relax in my chair across from him.

I’ve never really been able to relax since I started coming here. Something about the sterility of the impersonal room normally puts me on edge, but today, I feel calm. “I feel better,” I eventually say as I stare at my hands. “I finally filed for Grey’s benefits, so I should be receiving a check in the mail soon.” I’m going to buy Grey so much shit with that money. I’ll also be able to ease up on my strenuous work schedule, which will allow me to spend more time with him. After hearing my mother spew such shit about me, Ronnie’s been watching Grey for me while I work. Since she works from home, she promises she’s not put out by it; however, I still feel shitty about her giving up her free hours to babysit him all the time. She also claims it’s not a chore since she loves him, but I know it has to make editing difficult for her.

“That’s good. Was filing difficult for you?”

“Holding a copy of my brother’s and his wife’s death certificates was difficult,” I say, answering his unspoken question. I sit in silence for a moment, remembering what it was like to hold such a dreadful piece of paper. “I was so angry at first,” I began before I even realized I was speaking. “I was so fucking angry. I just wanted to scream at someone. Blame someone for all our losses. I want to know why it happened, but I know I’ll never get that answer.” I pause again for a long moment, Dr. Russell says nothing, not wanting to push me just yet. “Sometimes I wish it would’ve been me,” I say quietly. “Grey would have his dad, my mom would have her favorite son, and Dean would’ve gotten the future he worked so hard to have.”

“Wanting to die is not going to bring your brother back.”

“I know. I just wish I could take his place is all.”

“You say that Dean was your mother’s favorite son, do you really believe that is true, Trevor?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Of course, I do. I know it’s true.”

“Has your mother said as much?”

“Yes. It’s not just that though, it’s also the way she looks at me. Like I’m inconveniencing her by just existing.”

“And your father, does he love you? Or do you believe he also preferred your brother?”

“No, he loves me—but he just can’t help it. He loves everyone.”

“So, if he didn’t love everyone, he wouldn’t be capable of loving you?”

“It’s just in his nature. I think if he was capable of feeling differently, he would.”

“So, he only loves you because he can’t help himself.”

“I don’t know. I suppose so.”

“What about Greyson. Does he love you?”

“Yeah, but he’s just a baby.”

“So, when he grows older you don’t believe he’ll love you anymore.”

“I hope he does,” I say honestly, unable to stomach the thought of Grey hating me one day. “He’s my world.”

“Don’t you think that you’re probably his world, as well?”

I smile at the thought. “Maybe,” I finally agree.

Dr. Russell is silent for a few moments. “Do you think your mother loves you? Even if you believe it’s not as much as she loved your brother?”

“She’s never been able to love me in the right way: the way a parent should love a child. I’m sure she tried, but she just can’t find it in herself to love me.” I feel like I’m defending her as I speak, but it can’t be all of her fault. I’m sure my being such a fuck-up had something to do with her treatment of me.

“But you believe your father can love you the right way?”

“He doesn’t know any better,” I reiterate.