Our Reflection

11• Do I Make Myself Clear?

Cheryl Blossom POV

"Cheryl, this is a very delicate subject."

"I know, but I've been thinking a lot in the last few days. It is not something that I can simply control, it is natural. So I needed to see you urgently, you always had great advice to give me."

Friederick looked at me over the round glasses and took a deep breath. 

His brown eyes searched for some sign of understanding, but it was obvious that he would never find it. 

He wrote down a few things on his pad and I went back to paying attention to the chaotic LA traffic. 

Many things were going through my head, but none seemed to make sense. 

How many times would I have to come to see my psychiatrist just to try to understand something that didn't have much explanation?!

It took years of psychological work to keep from falling into temptation, but with it it was so simple, so ... natural. 

"Cheryl?"

Friederick called me and I turned on my heels to look at the doctor sitting in his red armchair. 

"Please sit down."

"Do you have any advice to give me?"

"Ah, child."

He took off his glasses and scratched his eyes, giving them a light massage. 

"If I could advise you, I would say it is time for you to accept who you really are."

"This is not new, Cheryl, this is not the first time that you have come to me with the same doubts. I was impressed to know that you got married and had a child, you always had a different mind about it."

"What you mean?"

"I have known about your sexual orientation for some time, Cheryl. Look, I've been your psychiatrist since I was thirteen, I think that's why you don't remember the questions you asked me.  Right?"

"I ... I ... sort of."

"Dad, I don't want to go back there."

"Cheryl, even your sister is going and enjoying it, why not?"

"Marjorie is Marjorie. I'm me. I don't feel comfortable talking about my personal life with a stranger."

"He has known you since you was thirteen, Cheryl, why did you think about it now?"

"Because I'm seventeen and a half now and I feel very resolved."

"Clear. I will pick you up in an hour. Love you."

My father dropped me off at Dr. Friederick's office and left. 

I stood in the hall for almost ten minutes, completely refusing to knock or ring the doorbell. 

As soon as I turned to run, I heard the door open and a middle-aged man appeared. 

His beard was well shaved and the navy blue striped suit looked new. 

"You was thinking about running away, right?"

"Yes."

"Come in, Cheryl, it'll be good for you."

"You don't know what's good for me."