The Pseudocide of the Moon - Complete

Olivia

We spent the better part of the flight talking, bickering, and joking around. So... I guess he's not so bad.

We talked about trivial things, but he payed such good attention to everything I said. He always made eye contact, which I would usually shy away from, he'd nod and and hum in agreement with me. He'd made me feel seen.

I asked him about his family and his hobbies. He told me about his siblings and his dog, he even showed me a picture. His pup was a cutie.

He never pressed on a topic if I didn't feel comfortable talking about it, and he was so interesting. From the books he read, to the things he was passionate about. He talked about the places he's been with so much love, it was bizarre. It was so bizarre to see a man so easily vulnerable. He expressed himself with such emotion I was astonished.

But I was also scared. Was he too good to be true? How can one man be this great. He can't possibly be this amazing all the time. What if he was secretly a psychopath. Or just a really good liar. Or what if he truly was in the mafia?

And heck, he may just be a honest to god good man, but do I really want him to get to know me? Do I want to let someone in? What if it's too much?

It just feels overwhelming. And honestly exhausting. It's exhausting letting someone in, someone get close to get to know you just so they can change their mind. Or to suddenly be gone. To lose them.

I don't want to have to count on someone for my happiness.

But sitting here, not thinking, just feeling. It feels amazing. It feels like he's amazing. And I can't get over his smile. The way his eyes crinkle, the way he laughs like a low giggle that grows louder. The way he feels warm and inviting.

It's conflicting. I feel conflicted.

When we touch down I thank him for the wonderful time. I thank him for the flight, and for being so generous. He insists once again that it's "not a problem really".

As we head to exit the airport I say goodbye and walk out towards my car. Chris catches up with me and says, "Wait! Hold on. Can I give you a ride home?"

"Oh thank you that's very kind of you, but I'm good."

"It's not an inconvenience at all, it would probably be on my way."

"It's fine really, thank you. I actually have my car parked here."

"Ah okay, yeah that makes sense. Okay just thought I'd offer."

"No worries at all. Thank you again. For everything."

"It was my pleasure. I hope I get to bump into you again."

I chuckle, "right."

I take my leave and try my best to not look back, in case he was watching me walk away.

When I get to my car I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Gosh. That was something," I mumble to myself.

---

The following month and a half I spend working non-stop. I'm at the hospital so much I practically live there. I have extra clothes and scrubs in my locker, and I shower at work if I have to as well. I would probably go home once, max two times a week.

I wasn't necessarily trying to hide from Chris, which kinda helped me out, but I was trying to keep my mind occupied. My therapist said that wasn't healthy. That I was pushing my feelings down, but work was the only thing that made me feel better. That made me feel safe, and alive. I got to help people every day. I got to keep people alive.

This wasn't about Chris, it wasn't about me feeling lonely without a romantic partner or whatever. I just needed an outlet. Work was it. Granted it wasn't the healthiest thing, I should know I work in medical. But I just couldn't help myself. Yoga did nothing. Working out only worked if I did hardcore weights, and I did not have the time for that.

So I kept working, and meeting with Matt for my therapy sessions.

I knew I was going to have to come home soon. And every year it just doesn't seem to get any better.

I had my flight booked for Thursday night, so I thought I'd meet Matt today before I leave. Get one extra session in before I leave.

He suggests we meet in the park so I can get some fresh air. He was right, I did need that.

"So how are you feeling about going home?"

"I don't know. I mean I feel like I've had the time to process things. And you've helped so much. But I can't help but still feeling awful. To still feeling empty, and sad."

"And that's okay, that's totally normal."

"I know it's not my fault, but I still feel terrible. And then I have to go home and deal with my mom. Help her through her emotions. Help her feel better. She still refuses to go to therapy."

"Hey and see that's where you're different. You've taken a step in the right direction, you're getting help. And although I do think you need to expand your hobbies, because talking to me is not your hobby. It's also not enough. You can't drown yourself in work forever."

"I know.. But I get overwhelmed sometimes and I forget everything we've ever talked about. I forget all of our exercises."

"Have you been making any new friends?"

"Well yeah I've-"

"Outside of work?"

"Not really.."

"Look Olivia, I care about you. Not just as your therapists, but as a person. You're a lovely person, and if you were to open up to someone else about what you're going through that might help to lighten the load. So you don't feel so burdened all the time."

"I know. It's just hard letting someone in. I get scared to let them get close. I don't want to loose someone again."

"Olivia you can't live your life in fear." He motions for a bench for us to sit down at, "Imagine a patient comes into the ER and they've got visible wounds, and you can tell they're not breathing. Will you panic and not do anything over the fear that you might loose them because you've lost previous patients? No. You would never let go of a patient. You would never give up saving someone because you're scared they might die. You would fight to keep them alive, you would try to your best. If after countless measures of you trying to keep them alive, they die, do you give up being a doctor? Also no, you now know better for the next patient."

Tears come to eyes, taunting me, at the brim to come out.

"Olivia relationships are just like that," he continues to say softly. "You don't give up on having friendships or relationships because a previous one failed. You keep trying. You fight for who and what you love because they just might worth it. Because you'll never know if you don't try. If you never try you'll live your life with worry, and fear. You'll live wondering and regretting the "what if". That's not healthy. If you try your hardest and it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out. But at least you'll know it wasn't your fault."

I give him a nod. I know everything he said was true. And I can't help but let out the tears.

"Oh Olivia," he gives me little pats on the back.

"Hey Liv?"

I sniffle and try to wipe away the snot that's probably on my face. I look up to see Chris with his dog Dodger.

I sniffle again, "Oh hey Chris," I let out weakly.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm good," I laugh a bit, I probably look ridiculous sitting here with my therapist, crying at the park. "How are you? Is this Dodger?"

"It is! We both felt like getting out of the house," his eyes dart from Matt to I, but I don't bother explaining. It would take a much longer explanation than I feel like giving. "So I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll see you around Liv."

Chris gives me a weak smile and little wave before walking away with Dodger.

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That was deep. Ooof.

Beijos