Echoes of Forgotten

Uppat a pulo ket Duwa

Lisa's Therapy Session

Lisa sat stiffly on the couch, her hands clasped together in her lap. The quiet ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to echo in the room as she shifted uncomfortably, not sure where to start. It was her first therapy session, and although she knew it was important, part of her still resisted the vulnerability that it demanded.

The therapist, a calm and patient woman, watched her with kind eyes. "You don't have to feel pressured to say anything right away, Lisa. Take your time."

Lisa took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She glanced at the floor, then at the ceiling, as if hoping to find the right words somewhere in the air around her. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and unsure.

"I'm not really good at this," she admitted, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. "Talking about feelings... it's just—hard."

The therapist nodded understandingly. "That's okay. This is a safe space to talk about whatever you're comfortable with. We can go as slow as you need."

Lisa nodded, grateful for the lack of pressure. "It's just... a lot has happened. Jennie and I, we were together for a long time. I loved her—still love her—but things got so messed up."

The therapist leaned in slightly. "Can you tell me what you mean by 'messed up'?"

Lisa paused, running her hand through her hair as she tried to put her thoughts together. "Jennie cheated on me," she said, her voice quieter now, as if the words were still difficult to say aloud. "I was devastated, you know? I felt betrayed, like everything we had just... crumbled. So I left. I went to New Zealand, started over, but—" She hesitated, struggling to voice her feelings.

The therapist offered a gentle prompt. "But?"

"But I never really got over it," Lisa admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "I thought putting distance between us would make it easier. I thought I could just move on. But now... now we're trying again, and I'm scared."

The therapist gave her a thoughtful look. "What are you afraid of, Lisa?"

Lisa swallowed hard. "I'm afraid of getting hurt again. I'm afraid that maybe we can't fix what's broken. But I'm also afraid of not trying. It's like—I still love her, despite everything. And I don't know what that says about me."

The therapist nodded, her expression empathetic. "It sounds like you're grappling with two conflicting feelings—wanting to protect yourself from pain, but also wanting to hold on to the love you still have for Jennie."

Lisa nodded, her throat tightening. "Yeah. That's it. I want to believe she's changed, that we can make this work, but... I don't know how to trust her again. How do you rebuild something that's been shattered like that?"

The therapist gave her a soft smile. "Trust is one of the hardest things to rebuild after betrayal. But it's not impossible. It takes time, patience, and effort from both sides. It also requires open communication and honesty about your feelings—both the good and the bad."

Lisa bit her lip, her eyes unfocused as she thought about the past few weeks. "Jennie's trying. I see that. She's been through a lot too. She's doing therapy, she's talking about everything that happened during those four years. But... sometimes I wonder if we're just holding on to what we used to be instead of facing what we are now."

The therapist leaned forward slightly. "What do you feel you are now, Lisa? When you look at your relationship with Jennie today, what do you see?"

Lisa sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I see two people who are broken... but who are also trying. I see Jennie, and I see how much she's hurting. It kills me to see her like that. I want to help her, to be there for her, but sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding myself together. And then there's the guilt..."