Blaine
“So, Bly how have you been?” Jane asks, a notepad and pen in her hands as she sits opposite me, looking attentive as if she gives a shit how I’ve been.
Therapist are all the same. They want to take your money just for asking a few fucking questions, but I don’t have a choice. Oak was not going to take no for an answer.
“Great, thanks.”
She nods and writes something down, as if somehow she gleamed some information about my mental state from two fucking words. “Oak is concerned that you’re on the edge of another breakdown. Can you explain why?”
“Fuck knows.” I run the palm of my hand over the back of my neck. “I’ve been a little agitated because my workload is increased. That’s all.”
“Hmm.” She writes something down, a look on her face as if she doesn’t believe my rehearsed bullshit. It always fooled her before, but I was more in control then.
“What?”
She draws in a deep breath. “I just think you seem different.”
“Well, it’s been a few years since I last saw you.”
“Yes, but I sense that the darkness we used to discuss is greater than it’s ever been.”
I clench my jaw together. “Perhaps I am the embodiment of darkness.”
“What do you mean by that?”
For a while now, I’ve realized that I can’t control it because all I’m doing is suppressing a part of myself.
“The darkness is a part of me, so I’m not trying to control it.”
Jane nods. “Indeed, you shouldn’t try to repress a part of you. It will only fight back harder.”
“Yes, but I don’t feel that I’m at any risk of a breakdown.” I narrow my eyes. “In fact, I’ve never felt further from one before in my life.” That, oddly enough, is the truth, even if I’ve felt off balance lately.
Jane writes down. “Tell me what you think changed.”
“This is confidential, right?”
“Of course, I can’t disclose anything we discuss with anyone, even Oak.”
I am skeptical about that. “I met someone. Someone who accepts every part of me.” I swallow hard. “Someone that compliments me in a way I never believed possible.”
“That’s great news.” She jots down some more notes. “And are you in a committed relationship with this person?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not serious.”
“But you just said-”
“Yes, but I don’t do serious.” I shuffle in my seat. “We are keeping it casual, as I don’t want feelings to be involved.”
Her brow hitches. “So when you say she compliments you, you mean sexually?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Frantically, she scribbles more notes down and it drives me crazy. “Do you have to write constantly?”
“It’s the only way I can make a dossier and follow your progress.”
I grunt. “I’m only here because Oak made me come. There’s no way I need therapy.”
Her lips purse. “Well, if you ask me, it sounds like you really need therapy.”
“What the fuck for?”
“Commitment issues.”
I grind my teeth together. “I don’t have commitment issues. I’m just not a relationship kind of guy.”
“And yet you tell me you’ve met someone who accepts you in a way you never believed possible.” She stares at me as if waiting for me to confirm it, but I’ve already fucking told her that.
“Your point?”
“Then isn’t that the kind of person you should be holding onto as hard as physically possible?”
I hate how much sense she makes, but what she doesn’t understand is that I don’t have the capacity for anything other than violence and pain.
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“Why not?”
“There’s not enough time in this lifetime to explain that.” My childhood is the reason for my closed off heart and I know that without facing it I’ll never heal, but I don’t want to face it or heal. Instead, my heart gets blacker with more time that passes like decaying wood in an ancient forest. And yet it feels like since I got involved with Azira she has slowed the rot, but there’s no repairing decay. Once something’s decayed, it gone forever.