Page 89 of Perfectly Us
“Yeah.” I reach across the counter and grab his hand. “Just lost in my head. Thinking about you.”
“Well, Iamkinda amazing.” Alex weaves his fingers through mine.
“Only a little.”
I plug in my employee number so his smoothie and food are free, and then he slides down the counter to eat as customers come in. Our eyes occasionally meet in between me taking orders and making drinks.
Hard to believe that before May fifteenth, I didn’t know Alex at all. I didn’t know the way his nose crinkles when he smiles or how he giggles if he finds something super funny. I didn’t know what it was like to love him.
He looks at me, and I avert my eyes, smiling.
I’m not the same person I was back then.
***
Dr. Larson crosses an ankle over his knee, folding his hands in his lap. His reddish-brown hair is casually styled to the side, and the sleeves of his navy blue button-up shirt are pushed up to show his lower forearms.
“How have you been?” he asks.
“Great.”
“What about your relationship with Alex?”
I can’t help but smile at the mention of him. “Also great.” Knots jumble in my stomach. “He’s going to college in a few weeks.”
Three weeks and three days to be exact.
“That worries you?”
I nod. “I’m not experienced with having boyfriends or anything. But I’ve heard stories. Relationships are hard when one’s in college. You meet new people, have different experiences. Sometimes people drift apart.”
“Relationships are hard work at any time,” Dr. Larson says. “Nerves are common in these situations. When you care about something, you worry about losing it.”
“Exactly.” My gut turns, and I shift on the cushioned chair. “I don’t think I’ll lose Alex. Not really. I guess I’m used to screwing things up. Used to being on the outside looking in, not part of the scene. I feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for him to realize I’m too much to handle. If that makes sense.”
“It does.” Dr. Larson lifts a hand and rests it at the edge of his mouth, his eyes studying me in that quiet way of his. “We all have insecurities. You just need to remember that Alex is his own person. Whatever he decides is no reflection on you. You can’t base your self-worth on how other people treat you.”
“I know.” I’m trying to believe that anyway.
“How are you sleeping? Any more running dreams?”
“No.” I drag in a deep breath, then blow it out. “Not since I faced the letter.”
I told him about that two sessions ago. I saw the truth written on his face too. He wasn’t surprised by my confession. However, he talked me through it and made sure I wasn’t having those kinds of thoughts anymore. And I’m not.
The thing is, I don’t think I actually wanted to die. I just wanted it all to end. The numbness some days, the pain the others. The bullying at school didn’t help any, neither did my anxiety and depression. The chemical imbalance. It all built inside me like a deadly storm, the distant rumble of thunder intensifying as the sky darkened and the clouds released the heavy rain, not able to hold it back another second.
That’s what I felt like at that time, a rain-heavy cloud not able to hold on any longer. Or maybe I was the rain, desperate to escape.
“I know I said it before, but I’m proud of you, Shiloh. You’ve come so far since our first session.”
“Thanks to you.”
“No.” Dr. Larson shakes his head. “It’s because of you. I only gave you the tools. You took them and did all the hard work.”
I think over his words as I leave his office and walk to my car. I feel stronger now than I did a year ago. Back then, I was like cracked glass, threatening to shatter into a million pieces with even the slightest amount of pressure. Mending those cracks took time, but I’m not fragile anymore. I’m not seconds from breaking.
“You should come hang out at the theater tonight,” Alex tells me over the phone. I called him on my way home.
