soft sounds from someone

series of incompletes (part 2)

(bit i intended to add in 'the olive green constellation' in connor's perspective but ultimately didn't due to not knowing quite where to take the memory between him and troye i had in mind and have it come across the way i pictured it.)

My first therapist appointment was in the beginning of June; this was somehow both the best and worst timing imaginable because I still had a few chaotic days left in my junior year surrounding the stress that was exams. As I was walking into the building, a part of me couldn't help but feel that I was using up valuable time that could be the difference between having that damn C in science that's been mocking me for the past month end up on top or getting the better of it by finally earning the next letter grade; but I knew deep down that if I didn't take this step into bettering myself soon, studying for an upcoming exam would be the least of my problems.

The two hour session hadn't necessarily been bad (really it was exactly what I needed) but there was something about openly admitting one of my greatest struggles to an adult I barely knew that made what I was facing that much more real. This wasn't a small trouble I had placed on my shoulders alone anymore and that was going to take some getting used to.

Just as I was back in the driver's seat debating on how I should spend the rest of the (quickly passing) Thursday, a ding coming from my phone made the choice that much easier.

From: troye boy ✨ (Received 6:33pm)