Starbucks is a refuge for me today. Steven and I are getting along, barely, and Rebecca, Steven’s daughter and soon-to-be college sophomore, is so out-of-sorts it worries me. We’re all suffering the side effects from the shooting. There’s also the loss of… I can’t wrap my head around that yet.
We have an appointment tomorrow with Steven’s therapist, and I’m hopeful she will have more insight for us. Steven recovered from his gunshot wounds, but his mind is still a wasteland of worry, anxiety, and depression. He knows some of this and is willing to continue his sessions. But, I think it’s only because I’ve asked him to endure them for me. He doesn’t feel they’re helping.
I can’t allow him to give up. I need my husband back and Rebecca needs her father back. After… I need to find peace of mind, too. Devastation follows me everywhere.
Christopher is our only beacon of hope. It’s as if our son holds the sun in his little hands, providing us with a glimpse of what we were before… before the world stole our future. I sit staring out the window while Christopher reclines quietly in his stroller, fixated on his teddy bear—the brown one my best friend, Chris Martin, gave him last year. I know I only have a few minutes before he’ll want out to walk around but, right now, I need this peace—away from home, away from the heartache I face every day. I do my best to hold back my tears, but it’s more difficult with each passing day.
I’d been so happy to see Steven standing at my door in June. We had three wonderful days finding each other again after his memory returned, and I thought all was right with our world again. How naive I was…