Page 89 of If Our Hearts Collide

Margo leans back in her chair. “Why are your days sometimes sucky?”

“Because I feel like an outsider in this world.”

“Hmm…so do I.”

“Well, that isn’t helpful as my therapist.”

“Isn’t being honest the number one road to success?”

I shrug. “I guess so.”

“Then I was just being honest. But are you?”

We go back and forth on our banter—seconds turning into minutes—and then finally the dam breaks and I burst into tears, sharing how every man who resembles Mark makes me freak. I explain that being in a closed-in space with a stranger—specifically a man—freaks me out. I express the fear that I’ll never get over him and how stupid I was to visit him at prison. That entire trip there was a disaster waiting to happen, and I did that to myself.

Because I’m a masochist.

I share that I think I left the facility too soon but I’m too in love with not being there to ever go back.

I spill it all… Every fear. Every panic moment. And every bit of false hope that the future could be somehow different.

We talk.

I break.

We talk some more.

And once my tears have dried up, I don’t even realize that seventy minutes have passed—twenty minutes past my session limit.

“I’m proud of you, Penny. You did amazing today.”

I want to snap back for her not to patronize me. I want to respond sarcastically. I want to make some silly joke.

But I don’t.

Because I’m proud of me too.

“So now what?” I ask. “What should I work on?”

“You work on walking into your future as a warrior who has done battle but has already won.”

“Umm, how do I do that?”

“You make a goal list of the things you want, and you start conquering them off that list one by one.”

And who would have thought I was the overachiever without even realizing it.

I nod. “I can do that.”

Margo levels with me. “Of course you can. Because you are stronger than anything that has happened to you in your past. It’s not about forgetting those memories. It’s about forgiving yourself for what you think you failed at. You didn’t fail, Penny. You persevered.”

I persevered.

“And maybe get some guy friends. And rewrite your brain from thinking all menareassholes to all menhaveassholes.”

“Ha… I’d be happy with a female friend first.” It’s on my goal list after all.

“Baby steps.”

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