Our love couldn't go wrong

Chapter Twenty-Nine :

October seems to pass in the blink of an eye and before she knows it, it's mid-November. The holiday season is about to start and it seems as though she can't leave the house without being bombarded by the smell of pumpkin spice, or seeing fall and Christmas decorations everywhere. Hell, she's already sick of the holidays and they haven't even begun.

But she's also grateful for the change in season. The chill in the air and shorter days remind her to breathe, and time seems to pass just a little faster - even now that Shayne's at work.

Still, it's hard to believe almost five months have passed.

In a way, it feels like a lifetime ago. Or maybe a different life, she supposes. But there's also that recurring feeling that makes everything seem so fresh; so fresh that if someone had told her it only happened yesterday, she'd believe them. She doesn't know which is worse.

Her whole life has changed completely. All she's ever really known has been flipped upside down and left her abandoned, completely destroyed. Maybe nothing's really changed, though...not really. Sometimes that's how it feels.

Her therapist seems to disagree.

Tina (she's her therapist, and is one of those know-all empaths who can basically read people just by observing them, which pisses her off to some degree, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She respects it. Relates to it, really. But, anyway) seems to think that because these past two years or so have been so unpredictable and turbulent, she's been forced to find routine within constant change and inconsistency. Which sucks, but makes sense. Courtney just...doesn't fully agree with it. Can't fully agree with it.

There's always been one constant throughout everything.

Shayne.

Whenever change has happened - whenever it seems as though her whole life has been uprooted - Shayne has been there. He's stuck by her side through it all; he's been, he is, her rock. Her safe person. Her gravity. Her magnetic pull. Whatever the fuck it is. Nothing has come between them and been able to change that, and she feels confident in saying that nothing could.

Which is another thing Tina likes to comment on a lot. Shayne. Her and Shayne. Them.

Whatever they are.

It makes her feel like she's in middle school, again, sat in her therapist's office and just gushing about her crush on her best friend and what it means. She feels so embarrassed about it, but she can't stop. Talking about him is so easy and, as much as she says she's ashamed about it, there's a part of her that loves the warm, fuzzy feeling that she gets. She could say everything there is to say about him, and still have more to say. She could talk about him for the rest of her life, and still not even be halfway through. That's just the sort of person he is.

Tina seems to think that this is good, that her being able to put all of this into words is progress. A step in the right direction.

She didn't want to correct her.

The truth is, she's nearly always felt this way about Shayne - ever since she fell in love with him; whenever that was. And that means she's spent the past four years trying to keep this feelings hidden and locked away from everyone. Not just the internet, but her friends, her family. Herself.

It hasn't really worked. But that's beside the point. The point is that she doesn't want to ruin whatever it is that she has with Shayne just because her therapist thinks it'll be 'the next step to finding Courtney'. Whatever that means.

What if she doesn't ruin it, though?

There's always two sides to any thought processes she has and, maybe it's the anxiety, but for every 'what-if' that comes to mind, there's another that screams the opposite. It's a constant battle. And her current battle is between the rival sides of 'what if I confess my feelings to Shayne and he hates me and I have ruined everything' and 'what if I confess my feelings to Shayne and he secretly, maybe feels the same way like everyone seems to think he does, and it goes well'. Either way, she's terrified.