Page 80 of Am I the Only One

“Fucked up.”

“How so?”

He leans forward, clasping his hands together. “Because I used to be able to look into her eyes and see everything. Now, all I see is a stranger. I didn’t even know what to say to her. It was as if I don’t know her at all.”

I continue to ask questions about their interaction earlier today. We then shift into discussing how he’s been handling school, and I suggest a few coping skills he should try, which I can tell he isn’t on board with—stubborn. But as a circle story would go, we wind up at the beginning again, further discussing his ex.

“Have you ever been cheated on?” he asks, catching me off guard.

This happens all the time. Clients will often ask me personal questions. It’s only natural for them to want me to open up to them because they spend so much time opening themselves up to me. This particular question coming from this particular kid strikes a chord deep within me. I should keep the focus on him, guide the conversation better, but I stall. He stares at me, wanting some sort of confirmation that he isn’t alone in this.

It almost feels unfair to deprive him of the same thing I’m greedily taking from him. I second-guess and then triple-guess myself before giving him a subtle nod.

“You know what’s weird?”

“Hmm?”

“When I saw her this morning, as much as I fucking hate her, I still wanted her. For a moment, I questioned if I would be able to turn a blind eye to her shit just so we could be together again. That’s pretty fucked up, huh?”

I know exactly how he feels because it’s what I feel with Tripp. No matter how angry I am at him, I still want him. I can’t seem to detach myself from the love that’s still inside me.

“Did you ever feel that way?”

Setting the notepad aside, I cross my legs and lean my elbow against the armrest. “Sometimes, the hardest part of healing is learning how to unlove the person who hurt you.”

“How long did it take you?”

“It took a while,” I admit, regretting my words the moment I speak them. I shouldn’t have told him that, but at the same time, I want to tell him so that he knows this isn’t something that can be fixed overnight. It also feels good to finally talk about this. Even though it’s only a version of the truth, it’s cathartic to say some of these things aloud.

“How long ago did this happen?”

“When I was in college,” I lie.

He nods in a slow understanding. “Were you guys together for very long?”

While I’m telling him another lie that sways him to believe that this is far back in my past, he reaches inside his coat and pulls out a vape pen.

“You mind?”

“No, it’s fine.” He did this during our last session too. When our conversation became deeper, he took a couple hits off his pen to help him relax.

“Did you ever go back to him?”

“In moments of weakness, I did. It was far from a clean break.”

He then holds the pen out, offering it to me as he did during our last two sessions. I stare at the pen in his hand, knowing how unethical this is becoming, but in a world where I’ve committed so many wrongs, what’s just one more? I take the pen, push the button, and take a long pull. Inhaling the vapor deep into my lungs, I hold it, allowing the chemicals to breathe tranquility into me. When I let go and blow out the remaining fumes, my head already feels lighter.

When I hand the pen back, he smiles and then takes another hit.

“My husband would kill me if he ever found out.”

“Then it’s our secret,” he says with a loose grin, setting the pen next to the tissue box on the small table next to him. “I have to run to the bathroom. Be right back.”

The moment he shuts the door behind him, I grab the pen and take a second hit. Last time I smoked weed was when I was in college—back when it was still illegal. It’s been a while, but, man, this makes me feel so good—light and free. Sinking back into my chair, I close my eyes and find myself swimming in negative space. There’s no fear in the dark water as I kick easily, propelling myself deeper into the abyss.

“You’re blasted.”

Opening my eyes, I right myself in my chair as Luca resumes his spot on the couch.

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