Page 128 of Like You Want It
“I’m assuming you can’t tell me anything about your conversation with my sister?” I ask, knowing he’s going to tell me no.
“I can’t talk about what’s confided to me in this office,” he replies. “But if you want to talk about your sister, you’re more than welcome to. And I won’t share with her what you’ve said either.”
“Does that ever get confusing? Do you ever slip up and say the wrong thing?”
He chuckles. “It may have happened once or twice when I was doing my residency. But that was a long, long time ago. Possibly longer than you’ve even been alive.”
I smile.
“So tell me, Fin, about what’s been going on with you and your sister.”
Dr. Takahashi leads us from there as I start to share my story. I start with Susie, about Nell, about my old job and what I’m doing now. And that requires me to go back, to tell him about Ashley. About Noah. About the baby that never was. And briefly, just briefly, about Carly.
The fifty-five minutes passes in a flash, and I realize that just getting everything out to one person, someone who isn’t partial or bias or judging, feels good.
“I want you to think about something, Fin,” he says as our time comes to a close. “You’ve talked a lot today about how you feel about everyone else. The things they’ve done, how it’s affected you. And those are really good things to reflect on. Absolutely. But I think you’re still struggling with a lack of forgiveness. So I’d like for you to think on that this week.”
I nod. “I can do that.”
“And make sure that when you think about that forgiveness?” he adds. “You don’t forget to think about how important it is to forgive yourself.”
My brow pinches. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s really easy to think about the importance of forgiving others. Whether for religious reasons, moral ones, or just to clear your conscience. But it’s a lot harder to look back at our own lives, to look at our own mistakes and shortfalls, and forgive ourselves for choices we think we shouldn’t have made.” He taps his pen against his notepad. “I think that might be your greatest struggle. It isn’t about forgiving Ashley. Or Noah. Or even your sister. You’re angry with yourself for the choices you’ve made, and when you walk around carrying an intensive hatred for yourself, it’s hard to understand why anyone would want to love you.”
His words are a sharp jab to my chest, to my lungs, and it takes everything in me not to bend over and gasp for air.
He stands, signaling the end of our time. Then he walks over to a shelf and pulls down a book. Hands it to me.
It’s black, plain, and when I open it, I see it’s just an empty, lined book.
“I want you to do an exercise for me. Sit down in a quiet room. Turn off your phone. Maybe do it on a day that Susie has Nell. And write down all of the reasons you’re angry with yourself. We’ll talk about it next week.”
I nod again, swallowing thickly and wishing I had a bottle of water with me. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it. Write out everything I hate about myself. All of the mistakes I’ve made.
“My four o’clock patient had to change their time because of a new conflict. If you want this space on my calendar, it’s yours.”
“Thank you,” I say, sticking a hand out to him.
He smiles at me, puts his hand in mine and gives it a firm squeeze. “Absolutely.”
When we walk out into the waiting area, Susie gives me a smile, and the two of us head for the exit, my mind still processing everything the doctor had to say.
“How did it go for you?” I finally ask, once we’ve pulled onto the road and are headed back to her place.
She nods her head. “Really good.Reallygood. I think I’m gonna be doing this for a while, but I think it’s going to be so worth it.”
I nod, though I don’t say anything else.
Instead, I just reach down and turn on some light music to keep us company on the ride to her apartment. She doesn’t say anything else either, just keeps her eyes focused out the window as we try to get home before rush hour.
I pull up along the curb, taking the street parking that’s available, and we pile out, Susie unbuckling Nell from her car seat.
“Susie Q!”
Carly’s voice from across the yard has my head flying up. She’s walking out to her car with a gym bag and water bottle in super tight yoga pants and an exercise top. Her hair is pulled up in a sloppy bun with one of those bands wrapped around her crown.
She looks beautiful.
