39- The Almost Therapist Friend

                                        

                                              

Life became more or less the same after that. A few episodes of joy followed by a few more episodes of sorrows. It was a bittersweet routine. I messaged Rithik a few times, only to be received by a one-word response or none at all. Guess he was determined to cut me off for real this time. Then again, I brought this upon myself so it wasn't like I could rant about it. With him completely giving up, I found it difficult to hold on to a slipping rope. My vow of claiming him back was staring at me in mockery. My optimism grew thin. I recalled Rithik's words when he struggled to do the exact same.
I'm tired, Natasha. I've been holding onto you, holding onto us for far too long and you just want to throw it all away.
One day you'll regret it. You'll regret leaving me but I won't be around to take you back. Remember that.
Indeed he wasn't around to hold me this time. I've taken him for granted for far too long. I didn't want to, but I did. These thoughts often gnawed at me like a thorn under the sack. It filled my chest with anxiety and I wasn't sure how long I could hold on. It was easier to give up. 
Except my heart wouldn't let me. Atleast not completely. Another month passed like passing seasons. 
~~~
“Just focus on yourself now,” Kylie advised me one day. “You told him you would, before getting back with him, right? Then focus on that part now. Live in the present. Think about the rest of the stuff later." 
I'm not breaking up! I'm just taking some time apart in order to secure a future with you.
“Yeah, easier said than done,” I said, my tone clipped. I leaned onto the pillow of the sofa, closing my eyes momentarily. Now I did say I'd work on my shit, clean my mess and gain some self-confidence. However, a bigger question lay sneering before me-
Where do I fucking start?
One couldn't just wave a magical wand and repair it into a brand new person overnight. Or sprinkle themselves with fancy prep-talk by famous orators and tell our fears to shove it in the arse. Been there. Done that. It got me nowhere. 
“Does therapy really, really help though?” I found myself questioning after Kylie advised therapy as the jackass solution behind all tragedies. I've heard different stories from people on the internet. Some would sing praises on therapy, patching up the pieces of their lives, while some claimed it did little to nothing. That they were still messed up and clinically depressed. What if I go there, claw my vulnerable self out and still turn out hollow? What if I was hopeless beyond repair? Just thinking about it scared me shitless.
“While I do agree that therapy isn't a magical solution to all problems, it's still a good start. Besides, there's never a one stop solution for everything. It's just like someone losing weight. You can't expect to lose extra pounds with exercise alone. You need to change your diet, your sleep cycle and your lifestyle. Therapy works the same way. You'll need to do a number of things. In the end, it depends on you. Everything is possible with determination, as cheesy as it sounds.” She patted my shoulder, giving me a reassuring smile. “I know you Natasha. I know you can do it, too.” 
I rolled my eyes. “Wish I had your confidence.”
Kylie shared the contact details of Dr. Ivy Jones- the therapist she often visited here. Ivy was a trauma- informed specialist and one of the best ones in the city with twelve years of clinical experience. Kylie was even ready to talk to the doctor on my behalf to offer a discount. The fees were still skyrocketing high though. She was ready to cover my fees, which I graciously refused. In the end, I told her I'd give it some serious thought.