Help

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I was called into her office around 15 minutes after arriving and cautiously peered my head round the door.
"Billie Joe, I presume?"
I smiled and entered the room. It was spacious and looked more like a living room than somewhere you'd work and she gestured for me to sit on the large, red sofa at one side of the room. I sat down and she walked slowly towards me. There was a single chair next to it which she sat in, made of the same material and probably just as comfortable. She smiled warmly at me and I couldn't help but smile back. "How are you?"

I scoffed, "obviously doing great if I need to see a therapist..."

She chuckled quietly, "it's nice to see you have a sense of humour, although I wouldn't have expected anything less from what I've heard about you."

"Heard about me?"

"The band, I mean. You come across as a pretty entertaining guy. So what can I help you with? Now you're here, you can explain a little better."

I ran through everything that had happened and what was currently happening, and she listened quietly while I stumbled over my words and clumsily tried to string the different time lines together.
She waited patiently until I had finished and then smiled.
"So, you're partners with Tré? There have been rumors but, obviously with your status, they've all been dismissed. Was that your decision?"

"We both agreed that it was for the best... at least until all of this dies down."

"And you were interested in Tré before you met Olivia?"

"I don't know, I guess... There's always been something but I never realised how much I need him until now... he's pretty much held me together through all this, even when he was getting hurt himself. I really do owe him everything."

"So if you liked him while you were with Olivia, don't you think that she knew? She was throwing accusations towards you both, but to some extent they were true."

"I'm some way, but she's crazy..."

"She may be crazy but she wasn't stupid. She could see that there was something there even before you did. I'm not saying that she was right to do what she did, by any means, but to me it looks like she had a hunch and was scared of losing you. She just blew it way out of proportion and pushed you away even more."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that before you can learn to forgive her, you need to understand why she acted the way she did."

"Forgive her? How can I forgive her? After everything she did?"

"That's the first step. Learning to understand her and forgive her for her actions will help you get over all of this. Obviously it will take a while, but I'm confident that I can help."

"But I don't know if I can do that..."

"Listen, I've helped a lot of people and this is always the first step in recovery. Are you happy with Tré?"

"Of course."

"Well, if you think about it, her pushing you away actually pushed you towards him. In a way, she helped you find him, by doing something traumatic to you and letting you seek his comfort. And then she aimed it at him as well, and he was drawn to you even more. This is all her doing, and that's got to mean something, hasn't it?"

I shrugged, "I have no idea."

"Don't worry, it won't make sense until you've had a few sessions. I'd like to offer you a weekly meeting to talk about all of this, that is if you're still interested."

"Can you stop the nightmares?"

"I think so, yes."

I grinned shakily, "good, because Tré is going to end up smothering me with the pillow..."

"Does he know you're here?"

"No," I admitted, "if I can do this on my own then I will, I don't want anymore drama that there needs to be."

"Don't you think he deserves to know?"

I shrugged, "I'll tell him if it comes up but I really don't see it as a big deal."

"Fair enough. So I can book you in if you like?"
I paused, not sure if I wanted to go through with it, then nodding quickly when I remembered that I was doing this for Tré's sake.
"Good. How about next Wednesday?"

"Sounds great." I shook her hand and left her office, feeling a little of the weight had already been lifted just by knowing that I was going to get help.

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