1 Year Later
“Last sessionbefore your last year begins,” my therapist, Rose said as she spread her knitted blanket across her legs. “How do you feel?”
I smiled and didn’t break eye contact as I answered, “Good. Ready.”
She smiled back. The black, heavyset woman across from me had kind eyes and an even kinder voice. I’d met her a few months ago after Dakota convinced me I couldn’t continue managing my panic attacks on my own. Rose’s office was off campus, meaning her sessions required out-of-pocket money. I landed a job at the tea shop off-campus and used most of my paycheck for therapy. Paying was well worth it. My personality meshed with Rose’s far better than I had any other free therapist on campus.
“Should we discuss your goals for this semester?” she offered while reaching for the notebook she usually wrote in during our session. “I remember you said you wanted to conquer your fear of meeting new people. Dating, perhaps?”
I felt my skin warm. “Not necessarily dating. Just… being open to the idea.”
A small laugh escaped her lips. “Why not dating? I think you are well enough into your recovery to consider it.”
In the past few months, I’d told Rose nearly everything about me. She knew the trauma of my childhood and the anxiety of my university life. What she didn’t know was how impactful Weston had been to my life. How much he changed me.
To Rose, Weston was a guy I saw briefly before he moved away. I told her he disappeared, which was true. I didn’t tell her he took parts of me with him.
“What is it?” Rose asked after my silence had gone on a moment too long.
I swallowed. “I know I don’t need anyone. Thankfully, I’ve learned to fill the gaps in my life. But, I’m kind of holding out for someone I promised not to. The guy from last year.”
Rose made a soft, humming sound. “The one who disappeared?”
“Yes. Does holding on mean I’m not getting better?” I wondered out loud. “Because sometimes I feel great. And other times, I feel like the same person I’ve always been.”
“Covee, growth and development aren’t a straight line,” Rose reminded me. She closed the notebook on her lap, deciding to speak from the heart. “Some days, you’ll feel healthy. And others, you’ll feel as if nothing has changed. The important part is to remember to give yourself grace. Patience, like you would a friend.”
I nodded. “I understand but… He’s still a part of me I can’t shake.”
“Why must you shake him, Covee? Tell me, was he cruel? Manipulative? Untrustworthy?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He was wonderful.”
“Then let wonderful be a part of you,” Rose insisted. “Clearly, you were in love. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. But that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you if you don’t let his memory go. We shouldn’t have to erase good people to heal. Let him be a part of your story so you can smile when you remember. You don’t have to let him go to be healthy. You just can’t let him hold you back from being the woman you should be.”
I let out a shaky breath and laughed. “You know, you’re really good at this.”
She joined in my laughter. “So I’ve been told.”
“Thank you,” I added.
“You’re getting better, Covee,” she promised with a firm nod. “One step at a time, you’re getting better.
Yara convincedme to help with the freshman move-in this semester. We’d gotten closer since I’d help design posters for her student organization. Now that she was an actual friend, she could successfully convince me to do things like voluntary physical labor.
In a Westbrooke blue t-shirt, I spent most of Saturday afternoon fielding questions from wide-eyed students and panicked parents. It was a small price to pay to spend time with my new friend and get a gift card.
“You two are going to help me move the rest of my stuff in our place, right?” Ari asked. She smelt of lilacs and shea butter when she wrapped her arm around my shoulder. I accepted the bottle of green juice she held out. Yara accepted the other with a wary look.
“How much are you paying?” I unscrewed the green juice and took a few sips. It was awful, but gave me more energy than coffee, so I bit the bullet.
“Oh, I was thinking my admiration might be enough.” Ari shrugged with a teasing look.
“The school’s giving us a hundred dollar gift card to move stuff,” Yara reminded her with a smile. “Try again.”
“Fine.” Ari playfully rolled her eyes. “Tacos, on me. All you can eat. Or, all I can cook. Whatever comes first.”
“Mm.” My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. We’d been up since six and I had nothing but a banana to eat. “I’m sold.”
