〰 Therapist - R.S.L 〰

Chapter 32 〰️ Home

Ross' POV

"The moment she left...it felt like she just took an organ away with her. I felt completely empty, and just l-lost. For a second there, I forgot where I was...who I was. It was too much for me to take in. I just lost what I've been chasing after for six months right after I had it in the palms of my hands. My entire body ached with numbness...I felt -uh- anger pulse. In my blood. Like I was in a war with my... heart. I wanted to kill my heart. Indirectly. I banged my forearm everywhere. On the wall, on the table, on my desk...on the lounge chair where she sat. If it wasn't for Michelle, my wrist would've been fractured by now. I knew I couldn't stay there after she left, so I packed and drove here."

If there was any person in the world to calm my heat and the raging fire inside me after what I did, it would be my mother.

The air around me...me being present back in the shelter...where I've been raised among children whom suffered just as I did.

"If you loved her so much," one of the girls cleared her throat, brushing her black hair to her shoulder. "Why did you help her get closer to her boyfriend instead of confessing your love to her?"

"I didn't want to scare her. She's 17...I'm 24."

"How can she be scared of you when you're the only person she depended on to treat her anxiety?"another boy about her age nervously joined, "besides, it's just a number...seven years? That's not a big deal."

"It still wasn't worth it. That just confused her."

"Remember nine years ago, Ross," she held my hand, making me look up into her eyes. She always held the same amount of emotions in her eyes....she always numbed pain with her brown orbs.

I've always been honored to call her, a person who held such amount of care, my mother.

"You were only thirteen when you were dealing with social anxiety and depression...almost paranoia, and you always told me you hated the way you stuttered. I sent you to every psychologist I knew across the city. My heart would just break knowing that none of them understood you the way you wanted them to. You'd give up after every new session, saying that you didn't want to waste my money. But I insisted, until we realized we went to every single doctor there was here. You came to me that day...you told me you were going to face it naturally. And then you looked right into my eyes and whispered 'I want to be a therapist to help people like me. But until then, I hope I find my own therapist.' And you did find her, you just never realized that you needed her help as much as she did."

Shame. I felt ashamed of myself for never realizing that any sooner. 

My biggest mistake was letting her doubt my love for her. I wish I had showed her the way she let my heart beat instead of hearing hers. I wish I had showed her the way she took my breath away instead of trying to take hers.

I wish I had kissed her one last time instead of forbidding her lips on anyone else's.

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If there was anything better than being in your childhood room, it's being in your childhood room in the darkness, where complete silence filled the air.

Everything was just the way it was six years ago, unlike every other room. The bed, the walls I drew on most of my memories, the books I've let my imagination out on; they were all left untouched.

"Dr. Lynch?" I heard a soft voice call, making me turn to my left, seeing Isaac, the 15 year old version of me.

"Yes, Issac?"