No Other End of The World Will Be

"So, what brings you here today?"

It's a classic question, meaning that the session is about to truly start. Before it, its just a seemingly pointless chit-chat. To be honest, Sasha used to hate those, when she was only crawling in psychology business or she was on the other side of the room – that is, when she was the one who needed help.

Experience has shown her such exchanges of words are the same important and fascinating as, you call it, the active part of therapy. By quick glances at the...details, she can somewhat predict whats troubling her client. She doesnt call them patients. It draws too much affection to their wandering, distressed looks around the whole room, bouncing legs or jittering fidgeting with hands and this is when she has to be emotionless, distant even, in some way.

None of her clients may realize this but each one of them has a different pattern before dropping their bomb on her. The hard, cold ground they'll together dig in, will melt. And then the real work will start.

He looks up every time. At first, it's a sharp look, almost confused with anger. She has learned to recognize it, as at the same second she becomes aware that his eyes are not full of rage that so many of his teachers or family members had been warning her about. With that determination, his glance is so similar to the one that she used to have when she was his age. And then, as he talks, it softens, but it doesn't mean those little things that make him nervous are gone in a moment. It takes a while before she can describe what's bothering him. His words are coming out of his mouth and soon she pictures them, studies them, factores.

Yet, at some point, it happens.

"I don't think my best friends think we're friends anymore."

She nods. He doesnt wait for the following 'why?' and continues.

"I think we've changed in a way that was almost impossible to notice, if that makes sense. We all have our own stuff we've been busy with lately and...It's just not the same thing anymore, you know?" He sighs. "I just feel like were different people now. And in reality, nothing happened. Part of growing up, I suppose."

There's it, the bitter. It's a well known type of pain, where something dies, despite still living, she has seen it thousands of times. It's something we wish we could avoid but instead, it's a part of life, the very essence of it. Humanity loves its endings but it doesnt fully realize that the people some used to know, love or hate, continue being – through them. And maybe that's the real tragedy of ours.

"Do you think its inevitable?" she asks.

"I don’t know."

The silence falls. Both of them are okay with it. It's a part of their meetings as well, when each of them is able to collect their thoughts to keep moving.

"Well, you can fight for it or let it go. It's your choice. But what do you really want?"

He takes a breath and sighs. "I'm exhausted, you know? That relationship...It gives me so much but at the same time it also costs me a lot. And I don't think I'm able to afford it. It doesn't mean I'm ready to just throw it away."

"They've changed you."

"More or less. I've learned a bunch of stuff from them, dumb and useful ones." A little, bitter grin enters his face. "Is it normal...To grieve a relationship that hasn't ended yet?"

She's the guide. That's pretty much her job. When she was younger, she used to fight for the definition of therapy being considered more than talking to a random person and paying for it. As time passed, she accepted it. Because it was true. She's the random person, she's listening and she's the objective observer. And that's perfectly alright as those traits collected all together allow her to actively help, step by step. She's not the one who's making the change yet she's the one who's encouraging it.