I’m most of the way through Torey Hayden’s book Tiger’s Child. It’s a sequel to her book One Child. The first book is about a six year old (Sheila) that comes to her class alone and scared on the inside, but violent on the outside. And the relationship she forms with this girl, Sheila, to quell the violence. At the end of the school year, Torey moves away and loses touch with Sheila, until she tracks down Sheila seven years later. By this time, Sheila has abandonment issues. Both from Torey’s leaving her and also her mother leaving her (her mother left her early in life). It’s so hard reading the book in a way. Tor and Sheil’s initial relationship reminds me so much of the relationship I had with a counselor I had in grad school. I was deep in depression by that time. I remember first moving there that I figured no one in town knew me, and it would be a good time to kill myself. No one would know to check up on me, no one would know that I was gone until the stench of my body made someone go looking for me. I was well into my second semester there when I finally made the decision that I needed to get help. Actually one of my friends suggested it. She knew the counselor and knew that I’d be in good hands. Though she was such an awesome counselor, I, at some depth wish I hadn’t gone. I’m not a subscriber to the whole it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. I’m envious of Torey’s and Sheila’s relationship in that I’ve longed so much for someone to hold me while I cry. Someone to just let me cry and not ask questions. I wanted her to hold me so much so many different times. I’ve longed for a friend that would listen and not give me the I don’t want to be your friend because you’re too depressed. In a way, it’s hard because all I feel is an intense emptiness that she left, but I remember little about her and the time we spent together. Trying to push as much as I can out of my mind, but I can’t push the feelings. I know the relationship between a counselor and client is different than teacher and student, but in a way, I still wish I had been special enough that she would have wanted to call me friend. But, alas, she probably has forgotten about me and could care less now, which is just as good.