“I love him too,” I mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.
Pluto reached across the table and touched my hand. “And that’s okay. It don’t make you weak. It make you human.”
I nodded but the words still hit deep.
Pluto set her glass down and looked right at me. “Toni, I want you to think about talking to somebody. A therapist. Just for one session. See how it make you feel. You don’t gotta commit to anything right away but I really think it could help you untangle everything that’s weighing you down.”
I looked at her slow ‘cause I ain’t even know how to respond. But at the same time, I been holdin’ shit in since I was a kid, and maybe that’s why everything hit me harder than it should.
Sha’Nelle tapped my arm. “For real, bitch. Go talk to somebody. ’Cause you been carryin’ shit that ain’t even yours no more.”
Pluto nodded again. “When me and Pressure had issues, we went separately so we could talk freely. It helped us understand ourselves better. It helped us breathe and think without all the noise. And it helped us come back to each other in a better place.”
I lifted my glass and sipped my wine slow ‘cause I needed somethin’ to keep my hands from shakin’. The idea scared me but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt like the first thing that actually made sense since all this shit started.
Pluto leaned into me, her eyes soft but serious. “If you know deep down you don’t wanna lose Kay’Lo, then at least try. Not for him, but yourself. For the part of you that keeps disappearing when life get heavy.”
My breath got stuck in my throat for a second ‘cause she was right. I didn’t shut down ‘cause I didn’t love Kay’Lo. I shut down because I didn’t know how to stay present when the pain got too overwhelming, and I been doin’ that since I was a lil’ girl in that damn bathroom tryna hold myself together.
I ain’t say nothin’. I just stared at my wine and tried to make sense of everything rollin’ through my mind.
Sha’Nelle clinked her glass against mine. “To whatever the fuck you decide, bitch. We ridin’ with you either way.”
Pluto smiled warm. “Always.”
And for the first time since this whole mess started, the world around me didn’t feel like it was closin’ in.
I ain’t have answers yet, and I didn’t know what I was gonna do about the divorce or Kay’Lo or none of it.
But for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe there was a way back to myself, even if I didn’t know what that path looked like yet.
THE HEALING HOUSE
While sittin’ in the lobby of the therapist’s office waitin’ on my name to be called, my leg had been bouncin’ so long I ain’t even realize I was doin’ it. I booked this appointment damn near a week ago, tellin’ myself I was gon’ show up and handle it like it wasn’t nothin’, but the minute I walked through those glass doors and sat my ass down in that quiet lil’ lobby, it felt like my nerves jumped right into my throat.
The place didn’t look nothin’ like a regular doctor buildin’. The walls was a soft blush color, the lights wasn’t bright, and everything smelled like some expensive lavender candle.
A receptionist smiled at me when I walked in but I barely smiled back ‘cause I was too wrapped up in my thoughts, and now I was sittin’ here wonderin’ why the hell I signed up for this in the first place.
I done went to therapy with Kay’Lo before, but that was different. We was doin’ that ‘cause I was tryna help him through his own shit, but me sittin’ here by myself felt completely different. This was for me, about me, and centered on me, and that made it feel scary as hell. I wasn’t used to talkin’ about myself unless I was forced into it, and I damn sure wasn’t used to nobody diggin’ into the shit I learned to bury.
The office door finally opened and this white woman stepped out with a soft smile on her face. She was white as cotton balls with blonde hair pulled back in a neat lil’ bun and eyes so blue they ain’t even look real.
“Toni?” she asked, lookin’ right at me. “I’m Dr. Lila Hartman. You can come on back whenever you’re ready.”
I stood up slow ‘cause I ain’t even know if I was ready. I followed her to the office, and the whole time my mind keptwhisperin’, “What the hell this white woman gon’ know about my real nigga problems?”
But Dr. Hartman opened the door to her office and stepped aside so I could walk in first, and before I could roll my eyes or judge the situation any further, I looked around.
Her office was warm in a soft and quiet type of way. She had a cream-colored sofa against the wall with a brown throw blanket folded on the armrest. There was a tall plant beside the window and a small lamp sittin’ on the table next to her chair that gave the whole room a light gold glow.
“Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable, Toni,” she said.
I sat on the sofa ‘cause it looked like it would hold all my tired.
“So,” she began once she sat down across from me, foldin’ her hands in her lap, “is this your first time in therapy?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I mean… I’ve been to therapy with my husband before, but never by myself.”
