He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. My resolve softened, but this time, it didn’t make me wanna gag. I kissed him back intensely, missing him during our lil spat.
I loved this man. And as long as he didn’t try to dim my light, I’d continue to love him.
25
VASIAH
Ialmost lost this woman.
I shook my head, then stared up at the ceiling. After we left the restaurant, we caught a movie, then went back to my house. We held each other all night, not really speaking or feeling the need to make love, but I began to think of ways I could repair what I did, even though I apologized. She left to go to work; she had five heads to do today and had to oversee final repairs at her salon suite. If I didn’t see her tonight, I’d see her tomorrow night. I had more pressing matters to attend to today.
Therapy was something I never really thought about. Like many, I assumed that therapy was for people who had severe mental health issues or those who had much more fucked up lives than me. Other than losing my mom at five, I had a decent upbringing. My Pops was a good man who instilled the right values in me. I had a career I liked, friends I could count on, a healthy extended family dynamic, and dreams that I was working towards.
I thought I wasgood.
But that blow up with LaReina… I felt like if I didn’t nip it in the bud, it would bite me in the ass and I’d lose that girl forever. I didn’t want that. I know I lived a long time without her, but now that she was a part of my world, I no longer wanted to know what life was like without her. I needed to get my shit together, so I sent a text to Rae and asked her to send me the info for her therapist lady. Reading up on the site, I knew I wasn’t like any of the clients she usually serviced, and what was even more ironic was that she didn’t even service a large Black male population. But sometimes we shouldn’t wait for shit to hit the fan to get some help. The moment we notice even the smallest thing, we should go talk to someone. Begrudgingly, I climbed outta bed. I called off work to do this, completely over clocking in to make someone else’s dreams come true. My dreams weren’t dormant; it's just that when you’re working full time to fund the dream, finding that extra energy is challenging at times. I knew it wouldn’t always be like this, though. I just needed to find the discipline and lock in.
Once I showered and dressed, I made the drive to the rehab facility and took a deep breath before I got out. No one knew what I was doing today, and for whatever reason, my throat wanted to close up whenever I thought about sitting on that couch and baring my soul.
Did you even bare your soul in therapy? Pop and I didn’t really talk about his sessions, come to think about it. The last thing he mentioned was that the lady encouraged him to start dating again, and that was the last I heard of it. I made a mental note to tap back in with him and ask how that was going. Crossing the threshold, the lobby of Love Rehab looked and felt welcoming with its neutral tones and the smell of vanilla and citrus in the air. The tall woman with a Jamaican accent led me down to what I assumed was Dr. Love’s office, but I was thoroughly surprised. I expected a couch and chair set up;instead, I was greeted with a large flat-screen TV and a video game on the screen. I looked around, bewildered.
“Vasiah.”
“Dr. Love?”
She emerged from the other side of the room, smiling warmly. She was dressed casually in what looked like formal sweatpants that flared out at the bottom and a white muscle tee tucked in, with a red pair of square-frame glasses on her face. I pegged her to be close to my Pop’s age, but her hair was fully grey, and I wasn’t sure if that was due to age or if she dyed it that way.
“Welcome to Love Rehab. A little birdie told me that you are into video games, and well – I like to make my new clients as comfortable as possible, so that’s why the room is set up the way it is.”
My shoulders relaxed, and I unclenched my jaw. When I asked Desiraè about what I should expect from her, the only thing she said was that she’s very unorthodox. I didn’t know what I was walking into, but I didn’t expect this.
I fucked with it.
“I…wow. This is cool as hell.”
She smiled again, then motioned for me to have a seat and pick up a controller. I was curious – I didn’t peg her as someone who gamed, but clearly I shouldn’t judge based on outward appearance. She had a PS5 set up and a selection of games. I settled on Demon Slayer. It was quiet for a moment as she observed me.
“So according to your intake form, you said the main thing bringing you in was a fight you had with your girlfriend. What was the fight about?”
I gulped. Straight like that, huh? “Ummm… well, we went to a day party with her family and friends. Everything was cool atfirst, until some NBA player ass nigga walked up to her trynna speak to her. Asked her why she don’t call him.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“Kinda jealous. Like, my girl makes her own money, so I know she’s not a groupie or a bird who would just go after any nigga with money, but I was flabbergasted that somebody I watch on TV knew my girl’s name and was pressed over her.”
“Hmm. So did you address it then and there?”
“Nah. She told him she was married, and she dismissed him. Even still, he didn’t even acknowledge me until she said that, and she was sitting right between my legs. Kinda crazy to me.”
“Why didn’t you address your feelings?”
I cringed. “Because I felt like it would make me look like an insecure ass nigga. And I’m not like that. My girl is a gorgeous woman. And I didn’t know that being a hairstylist in this city could yield so much popularity. I’m a regular dude, Doc. Everybody in her circle is a successful business owner.” I cringed even more because I felt like I sounded like a bitch. If we weren’t on the first floor, I’d jump out a window.
“So then what happened?”
I paused the game, turning to look at her. “Why do I feel like you already know this story?”
“Whether I do or don’t, I haven’t heard it from your perspective. Unpause the game and finish telling me,” she admonished. I smirked. This therapist lady was a lil spicy.
