After 4 | ✓

Chapter 8

Hardin's POV:
Two weeks later...

Last week was just goes by calling Tessa and spend very little, little as in very small microscopic organism ever lived in this entire planet, time with Landon before he move to New York.

Who am I kidding, I spend most of the time with him asking about Tessa, has she said anything to him that she didn't told me and few shits about his planning to New York, apartment, he'd be living when he get there and surrounding area. But most of questions, I asked involve Tessa.

Everything's involves her, even coming to this place. When I ask my dad, Ken, about some good therapist, he was shocked, like I've grown two heads or something. But I know deep down that he was proud of me.

It's not like I've never been to any therapist, I've, when I was a kid, because of the nightmares. It's never works, because I was never comfortable with them, knowing my life. I still don't, but I've to be better for her and show that we can be together.

So here I'm, starting at this bald man.

He suggested me this con-artist, who is sitting on his chair behind the desk, filling up hundreds of procedure, around fifteen minutes or so. And I didn't even said shit to begin with, other than my name.

Somewhat this room is smell like tears, vomit and death even, for some reason.

But now that I'm here, I want to go backward, and do something shitty things that, I'd be regretting after doing it, like drinking and smashing things. I don't want to give any stress to Karen, given her situation and in general.

Looking at this doctor, I don't think he'll understand my case. He may need a therapist for himself, when some kid tease him for his baldness. Creep.

"Can we start now, or you need another year to fill up that shit up." I ask, pointing at the papers.

"Yes, just give me a minute." He's taking long enough time for this, it's not like I've things to do, but still.
"And, I'm done." Finally he say. Thanks God.

"So, Hardin tell me about your relationship with your..."he say, standing up from his chair and sit down on the edge of his desk, crossing his arm. There is a arm chair for a reason across me to sit on, you don't have to sit on that uncomfortable desk. Dickhead.

"Girlfriend" I say. Am I even her boyfriend? We broke up, but it didn't feel like it. Did she think we did? I never asked her about this.

"Yes, girlfriend. That is why you're here. Right?" He ask.

"She is my first girlfriend that I ever had and I really love her, so does she." I stated the facts.

"Maybe a little more, so I can understood what's going on. You know, like a some arguments or something." He politely ask.

"We both live most of the time happily. But sometime, some shit drop between us like a bomb, most of them comes from my fucked up mind or my possessiveness, and trying to control her decisions and life. And we fight, leaving one of us or even broke up. And after some time passes, we get back together. And she forgives me, always has, and maybe that why I treated her like shit because she quickly forgives me. And she always understood me more than anyone, even more than my own parents." I explained.

"Oh, so you see, you should just think before you do anything, or say anything. That will help your case most of the time. And possessiveness, people get possessive sometime, it's nothing wrong. But you have to find a balance between control and guidance. You should support her decisions, and stop interfering in her life. And just take it whatever she gives you and don't force her. If she really loves you, the way you claim, she'll come around, and be with you." Dr. Tran suggest.

He is right. I could, should do that. "It's not that easy." I scoff.

"No, it's not but if you really want a life with her, and be a part of, you've to do this."

'I want to." That the only fucking thing I want, more than anything.

"Than you know what to do. Are you guys broke up right now?" He ask, how does he fucking know that. Is my face is that clear to him, that he can read that.

"No, we just take some time apart. But my mind always keep thinking about her, like what she is doing, who is she with?"

"You should keep yourself busy. What's your hobby, or things you like to do?" He ask.

Beside bury my face between Tessa's thighs. "Reading or sometime writing." I say.

"You should do that. Write, it will keep you busy. What is it you're currently writing, if I may ask?"

If he really know what's I'm writing, he wouldn't be suggesting this. "About my life's event." I say. Especially including her.

"Like a diary?" he ask.

"No, nothing like that. But sometime what I feel, when something goes down the road."
And also some happy memories with her.

"You should do that and maybe you can read it, in front of peoples, in our group therapy sessions." He kindly suggest.

I don't think that a good idea, but I think I'll give it a try. He is not that bad I think he'd be, maybe this therapy can help my fuck up mind this time.