I say nothing to her. What can I say? I’ve used all my words and my body is empty. So I mindlessly nod as I look out of the window that overlooks the front yard.
“Okay,” my therapist says after I’ve said nothing for the last ten minutes and we’ve done nothing but stare at each other on the screen. “Well, our time is up today and your meds seem to be working still.”
My cheeks flame.
“What’s that look?”
“Um, is there a medication that doesn’t hinder my…” I look out the window to find the word.
“Your libido?” she asks, and I nod my head when I return my focus back to my screen. “Medications affect people differently. Since you’ve been on an SSRI for the last two years, it shouldn’t cause you too much trouble. But ifyou’re asking this, then maybe you shouldn’t have a reason to worry. If you want, wecantry a lower dosage.”
“I’d like that,” I tell her with a soft smile.
“Okay. I will submit your new prescription and I want you to at least give it a month. I know you’ve been on your current SSRI for the last two years. But if you notice anything like increased agitation or anxiety, let me know, and we’ll get you switched back, okay?”
I nod my agreement. “I will.”
“Okay. Well, we have our Wednesday session and you have my number if you need me.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
She parts with a smile and my screen goes dark. I always feel like I end my sessions with more questions than answers. And shouldn’t that not happen?
I take my headphones off and place them on the couch. I feel like my plate is impossibly full, but it’s hard to determine if that’s a good thing.
After unexpectedly workingopen to close yesterday, I’m grateful I’m not on the schedule today. It gives me time to get ahead in my last class and prep to turn in some final projects. Unconsciously, I chose business as my major, hoping to open my own piano bar. It’s a pipe dream, but as I’m winding down my college career, I’m wondering if it’ll all go to waste. I’m constantly reassured by people that it’s a great idea. But it’s still just an idea. I still have no plan for getting it off the ground. I mean, sure, I could always have Miles as a silent investor, but I don’t want to use his new friendship for my personal gain.
When I can no longer focus on homework, I grab myphone with the intention of getting something to eat when my phone rings.
“Hi, you,” I greet in lieu of a formal greeting when I walk into the kitchen. My parents have kept to their word and they’re home during normal hours.
“Hi, Angel. What are you up to?”
“About to make some dinner.”
“Have you started?” Brandon asks.
“No. Why?” I ask, my heart racing.
“Put some shoes on and meet me at the end of your street.”
My heart thuds and I look at my parents on the couch. “Okay. Five minutes,” I whisper before hanging up and racing back upstairs to put on some sandals. I look in the mirror and see my hair has lost its shape in the bun from this morning, leaving me with that messy bun every girl tries to achieve. I think about changing out of the black maxi dress I’ve been wearing all day, but decide against it.
Heading back downstairs, I grab my keys and yell out, “I’ll be back.”
Without waiting for their response, I hurry out the door and down the street to my favorite person. Brandon’s car is idling, and I hop in the passenger seat.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” I greet and lean forward, taking his mouth in a desperate kiss. Brandon meets my fervor and wraps his hand around the side of my neck. He’s got more of a level head on and he breaks the kiss. Yeah…totally not affected by the meds.
“I have dinner for us.”
It takes me a few seconds to compute what he said and I look in the backseat to see Bird & Daughter take-out bags.
“You’re the sweetest,” I tell him and kiss him on the cheek.
Brandon puts the car in drive, and we sit in companionable silence as he drives us to a secluded park.
