The Unrealities of Greendale (1/3) *Being Edited*

Chapter 5

I walked out in blue acid washed skinny jeans and a white sweater, white and black converse sneaker and my hair in a disgusting low ponytail. I put on my black peacoat over top and a scarf along with a white beanie. It was freezing outside. I walked out and was surprised to see that it had snowed the day before.

"It snowed?" I asked, stating the obvious. My mother chuckled as she fished out her keys from her pocket.

"Well, you've been in your room for quite some time, Valeri." she said as she unlocked the car door. With one swift movement, she was in the car, door shut and engine running. We sat there for a bit, waiting for the car to warm up before we took off.

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"So how do you feel?"

I laid there on the brown leather sofa, staring up at the porcelain statues at the corners of the ceiling.

"Valeri? How do you feel?" my therapist, Dr. Pestode, repeated. I turned my head and looked her dead in the eye. I had been urging to talk to someone other than myself for a change.

"Like I'm dying." I stated.

"And tell me why you feel that way." she said in a soothing tone.

"I have Dementia." I said. She picked up her pen and started scribbling on her yellow notepad.

"And this guy I'm in love with, Evan Greendale, is only a part of my imagination. Well, at least I think he is.

She stopped and gazed at me over the rim of her jumbo sized glasses, propped up on the tip of her nose. She cleared her throat.

"Go on." she ordered, scribbling again.

"I started ignoring him, and so far, it's been working. But I can't help the fact that I'm still in love with him."

"Well, you said he was a part of your imagination." she interrupted.

"Yeah, but I could never be sure." I said.

"Explain."

"Well, I think he isn't real... but, I mean, I can feel him. I can sense him, I can see him. But every time I try to get someone else to do the same, they look at me like I'm crazy. They can't see him... but I can." I elaborated. She slowly nodded.

"Mmmhmmm...... she said to herself suspiciously. "Proceed."

"So, the past month or so, I've just been feeling down about everything. My mom said that the car crash I was in a few years ago has made me bring a childhood imaginary friend back to life."

"You have Dementia." she stated. I looked around.

"Uhm, I know." I replied.

"That's it, Valeri. This guy, uh, Evan Green-whatever is only the result of your mental disorder." she informed me. You'd think she'd get his name right since she had a notepad she could've wrote it down on. You'd be wrong. But, nonetheless, I started to believe that telling myself that Evan was real was insane.

"But how can I convince myself he isn't there?" I asked.

"Time." she said, nodding her head. My eyes fell in disappointment. I didn't have "time." I needed Evan gone, now, before he had a chance to ruin my life any further.

"Valeri, we all want to be loved. You can't blame yourself for wanting to believe that this Evan guy, who you've come to feel for, exists. But you need to know that he isn't there, and he's just a part of you that won't let you grow. You are the one who's holding yourself back, and your mind is the only thing that stands in your way. Once you teach yourself to control that, you will finally be able to move on." I thought about the advice I had just received. I mean, she was right. But suddenly, I felt like I was even crazier.