Brie Sheridan has had her heart broken way too many times. Rhett Price is usually the culprit, but, this time, he might be the solution.
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Brooke 'Brie' Sheridan wouldn't necessa...
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RHETT
Our first game of the year starts off uneventfully, so painfully average you'd think something is amiss.
In my case, when things feel too normal, too okay, more often than not it ends up being a red flag, a clear reason for concern. Naturally, the rational side of my brain is well aware this is no way to live and that I need to enjoy the moment, but, if I had my way, that side would always overpower the one that's governed by my anxiety and perpetual fear that something will go awry.
The game doesn't start when we step out into the rink, blades speeding across the ice. The pregame, all the preparation—that matters too, sometimes more than the match itself, as it sets the tone, the mood, the morale of the team.
With our captain still being trapped in a slump, a spiral of self-destruction following the breakup, any missteps can be deadly damaging, and I'm trying to be as careful as possible around him. He's never been one to snap at people or to wreak havoc in a fit of rage, but I convince myself I can never be too cautious, even if this is one of the few human beings in the world I unconditionally trust.
I trust him to handle himself and the team when he's doing well, which is far from the current circumstances, and I'm still a bitter asshole who can't let go of the words that came out of his mouth the day I found out he and Jackie had broken up.
Realizing even my best friend sees me as a screw up has been eye-opening.
Even if he didn't really mean it, even if those words were only uttered out of desperation, out of heartbreak, they had been floating around in his brain. He didn't conjure them out of thin air. And that hurts like a bitch.
Although the wise thing to do is to simply move on from that, I've never been great at that; even when it's counterproductive, even when hanging on to a painful event is the worst possible decision I could make, I'm still there. I'm still believing myself to be unworthy of the benefits of getting over something for my own benefit.
"I know the conditions are far from ideal, but we need to make do with what we have and prove to those guys out there that no one messes with us and gets away with it," Andy begins, as we form a semi-circle in front of him. "Ideally, we'd be playing in Bennington for the home advantage, but we're here in New York and know the odds are stacked against us. We've been through worse and made it out, so this is no different."
Some things never change, including his signature pep talk before a match to encourage and motivate us, and I'm learning to not take those for granted.
My therapist has been a true saint, being patient with me in spite of my increasing frustration about not being able to function like everyone else around me. Whenever my thoughts start going downhill, taking a nosedive straight to rock bottom, he helps me center myself, return my world to its axis, and has me rely on simple techniques that are surprisingly effective. By focusing on things I can objectively feel with my senses, I somehow manage to stay grounded in the present instead of going off on a tangent to follow a subjective idea or train of thought.
