Broken

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Chapter 13: Broken

We were broken. Broken beyond repair.

One fucked up couple.

We couldn't do this. I felt like I was making him more broken, instead of actually fixing him.

"Okay." The therapist, Dr. Pipers, sighed. "So, I'd like you to understand that you guys can tell me anything you want, there's nothing you need to hide, this is secret. And if you'd like to have separate sessions, I could arrange that. I'm here to make you feel better, and I'll do anything in my power to make that possible, alright?"

We nodded.

"Okay, Kyle. Bipolar disorder and depression mixed together are too very big things to deal with. If you can, describe your feelings. Tell me how you feel right now."

"Pissy." Kyle responded.

I resisted the urge to laugh.

"Why?" Dr. Pipers asked.

"Because I have to be here. I know you're supposed to make me feel better, but I am a strong guy and I used to play sports and-"

"It has nothing to do with playing sports. It's emotional strength you need to worry about. Human hearts are like glass. They'll break and we have to find somebody to help us pick up the pieces... put us back together again. Violet and I are gonna help you. And you and I will help Violet."

Therapy. Fucking therapy. I couldn't believe I was in therapy.

"Okay. I'm pissy. I've been pissy lately. But, sometimes I'm sad and all I wanna do is cry and other times I'm okay. I can deal. But there's always this dull ache in my chest that never goes away." He continued.

"Violet, what about you?"

"I'm okay. It's just hard. Life is fucking hard. My mom just had to go and find another man. Was my dad not good enough? Was I not good enough? Why did she have to run off? I guess you could say part of me is angry and another part of me is upset." I breathed.

"Good. Now, I want you guys to take these."

She handed us two black journals.

"Write down your feelings everyday and we will read them next time we meet. Tracking progress."

I nodded and gripped Kyle's hand.

"Sure."

---

"We're forced to go to fucking therapy and now we're getting fucking homework. What the-?" Kyle began.

"You do this everyday. It's okay. Just write. Don't think about it. It's not that hard."

"It's not that hard? It's not that hard?! Maybe not for you, Vi! But maybe I don't wanna write down how I feel and reveal it to a fucking stranger!"

"Ky, I get it-"

"You don't! You don't get anything-"

"What's wrong? You've been acting so different since we were diagnosed."

"I.... I don't know. It's just... it hurts knowing there's something wrong with me. Wrong with my brain."

"There's nothing wrong with you." I whispered. "Kyle, tons of people have these things. Tons of successful, normal people. You are completely the same, diagnosed or not. Now please stop lashing out and me and kiss me?"

And he did.

HEY GUYS!
SORRY EVERYTHING FUCKING SUCKS LATELY. I HAVE KILLER WRITERS BLOCK.
ANYWAY, THIS CHAPTER GOES OUT GO ohsnapitsyadhira BC SHE HAS INSPIRED ME SO MANY TIMES. SHE HAS BEEN THERE FOR ME WHEN NO ONE ELSE HAS. I AM SO THANKFUL FOR HER.

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