About A Girl // Nirvana
"What is your goal with our time together?"
Tiffany, my new therapist, is sitting casually in an armchair across from me. Her office feels more like a living room. Plants, soothing light and soft music fill the space. There's a throw blanket on the couch next to me, for comfort she said. In case I need to wrap up in a blankie.
"I'm not sure how to answer that? Shouldn't you be telling me?"
Tiffany smiles. "This type of therapy isn't like that. I'm here to help you on the journey, not to lead you along. Let's start this way, what made you contact me?"
I called her office the day Jeff confronted me. She had an opening two days later, so here I am. He got Tiffany's information from his mom, without giving details. As far as anyone knows, I'm dealing with losing my dad. Not the entire relationship I had with him and how it is affecting the rest of my life.
"My dad died almost two months ago, and my life is complete shit now."
"Was it complete shit before?"
Her question makes me laugh. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting you to use the same wording."
"That's fine. I use your wording because it's your perspective."
"Ah, makes sense." I run a hand through my hair. It brings back memories of Hannah doing the same thing. "And to answer your question, not totally. Living with my dad had never been easy, or good. But being with Hannah was like starting a new life."
"Hannah is your girlfriend?"
"Yeah, but we broke up. Well, I broke up with her."
"Tell me about that. If she was like starting a new life, why would you break up with her?"
I suck in air. Hearing Tiffany put it that way is like a punch to the gut. "Because I was afraid I would ruin it."
"How?"
"My dad was hard on us, the entire family. About a year ago I realized I was acting the same way he did, treating my girlfriend at the time like she was worthless. I didn't want to end up like him, like my parents, so I took a long look at my life and made some changes. I pulled away from some friends, found better ones. Then I met Hannah and she busted my balls."
"In what way?"
"She questioned me. She didn't let me slip back into bad habits or to be fake with her."
"Sounds like she helped you move past some patterns that had been engrained in you."
I nod. "She did."
"And how did you feel about her. Before things started to change?"
"I loved her. I still do."
"Okay. Tell me what led to the break-up."
"When my dad died, I found myself slipping. Having thoughts about my family, and then voicing those thoughts. Destructive ones. I've said some things I regret. Cruel. I don't want to do that to Hannah. Ever."
"Can you give me an example of one of these thoughts?"
"My mom couldn't make a decision about my dad's coffin. She went back and forth between a really expensive one and the one we could afford because she didn't want him in a cheap coffin." I lean forward, disgusted with myself for how that afternoon went down. "I called her blind and stupid because she was forgetting what an asshole he was."
Tiffany nods and writes something on her notepad. "You were both grieving and perhaps for your mom, remembering the happy times with your dad is helping her. She just lost a big part of her identity, no matter how healthy or happy it had been."
"I understand that intellectually, but I'm still so mad."
"And that is also to be expected. When a parent dies suddenly, any unresolved relationship issues the children are left with can become magnified and projected onto the surviving parent."
"That sounds right."
"And what about Hannah?"
"What do you mean?"
"What kind of destructive thoughts were you having about Hannah that prompted you to break up with her?"
"Oh, well, none. I hadn't gone down that road, yet."
"What made you believe you would?"
This is the first thing Tiffany has asked that feels the same as a punch in the face from Jeff. I'm still sporting the black eye.
"I...I guess I figured sooner or later that's where my brain and my mouth would go. Tearing Hannah down. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did to her what my dad did to us."
"And up to this point, you've never gone down that road with her? Even in your mind?"
"No."
Tiffany leans forward. "What does that tell you?"
I don't answer immediately. Instead, I glance around her office, taking in the artwork, the bookshelf stuffed with books about families and relationships, and let her questions sink in. What does it tell me that my angry thoughts never included Hannah?
"It tells me that I wasn't mad at her."
Tiffany nods. "Okay. What else?"
I think about my frustrations, my lack of control. "That I was mad at my parents, but my dad isn't around to tell him. So, I laid it on my mom."
"Do you think she has some responsibility in your family dynamic? She was the other adult in the home."
"No. I mean, yes. Shit, that's a tough call. I feel like there was a time when my mom was stronger, but the way my dad talked down to her took it away. I can't blame her for her weakness now if he's the cause of it."
Tiffany nods. "That's a lot to unpack, and it's going to take time to come to terms with how your parents' relationship affected the entire family. But for today, let's return to Hannah because I sense a bigger divide in your response to that relationship."
"Okay. Give me your insight."
"How about I give you your insight." Tiffany looks back at her notes. "You said Hannah didn't let you slip back into bad habits or allow you to be fake."
"True."
"You also said that you hadn't had destructive thoughts aimed toward her."
"Also, true."
"I'm assuming you've had thoughts like that about previous girlfriends, is that so?"
"Yes." I think about Amber, about what I'd say to her daily and cringe. "I was a shitty boyfriend, that's for sure."
"But not with Hannah."
"No, not with her."
"What makes you think you'd get away with treating her that way now?"
"Huh?" It's like a record scratch happening in my brain. That moment when the beat drops.
"Hannah isn't the type to allow you to mistreat her. She's already worked on that aspect of your relationship, effectively."
I nod. Things are moving in slow motion. I'm waiting for my brain to catch up.
"What makes you think that would be different now that your father has passed away?"
"Oh...shit." I bend over and cover my face. "I'm such an asshole."
"No, you aren't. Assholes don't go to therapists to repair relationships."
"No. They don't." My dad never would. He said more than once that he would never be caught dead at a shrink.
"She's pregnant. Hannah. I just found out." I'm not sure why I throw that out at the end of the session, but I need Tiffany's advice on this. "I want to be with her, be with our baby. But not until I know I'll treat them right."
"That shows maturity and self-awareness. Have you two talked about the future now that there's a new life involved?"
"Not yet. I wanted to be in a better place first."
"Are you in that place now?"
"After one session with you?" I scoff. "Isn't that too soon?"
"Actually, no. You've taken a huge step that most people, most men, wouldn't take. If your goal is to have a healthy relationship with Hannah and your child, even if that isn't a romantic one, I would recommend that she attend with you. Not every session, because you absolutely have things to work out on your own. Issues with family of origin will permeate even the best relationship if they are not worked through. But seeing as she's expecting, and you've already been dealing with this as a couple, healing for the two of you should be the first priority."
I close my eyes to absorb Tiffany's words. It's the first moment of hope I've had since Hannah and I started texting. It's hoping I haven't screwed us up completely that gives me courage to even try.
I stand up, needing to find her right now. I can't hold myself away from Hannah another second.
"I guess our session is over for the day," Tiffany says with a smile. "Before you go," she also stands, grabbing a card from her side table, "this is my after-hours contact information. I'm available for emergency phone sessions if you find that some emotions or destructive thoughts are bubbling to the surface and you need me to talk you through it."
I grab the card and slide it into my back pocket. "Thanks."
"I'll see you soon, Matt."
"Bye," I wave as I head out her door and rush to my car.
The therapist office is across town from campus. I drive directly there even though I didn't plan to. It's Monday afternoon. Normally I'd be home studying or gaming after team workouts. But I told Coach I had an appointment with a therapist, so he gave me the afternoon to get my head on straight. It actually might be, after talking with Tiffany. The world looks different as I park my car near the freshman dorms. It doesn't seem as dark as it had earlier.
I lock my car and enter the dorms. I haven't been here in a while, but no one gives me a glance, so I take the two flights of stairs to Hannah's room. The itch to see her, to talk to her, is under my skin so strong I have to rub my arms. I get to her door, my heart pounding and the nerves leaving me raw. I knock and wait.
Nothing.
I knock again.
Silence.
"Hey, asshole!" The greeting pulls my focus from the door and to my left. Hannah's roommate, Morgan is glaring at me.
"Hey." I have the good sense to be uncomfortable. Jeff already clocked me. I wouldn't be surprised if Morgan's next. There might even be a few others waiting in line. I deserve nothing less for hurting her.
"She's not here. And if she was, I'd still tell you to get the hell out."
"I don't blame you. But I really need to talk to her. Do you know where she is?"
Morgan crosses her arms and continues glaring at me as though she's trying to get into my head. "Why now?"
She's Hannah's roommate. Jeff didn't say but I'm thinking Morgan knows about the baby. That's not why I'm here, though. I decide to go with the truth.
"Because I just went to a therapist and now I need to tell Hannah how bad I fucked up and that I love the hell out of her."
Morgan takes a few seconds to deliberate. Then she tosses her head to the right. "She went home to talk to her parents." Eyebrow raised, Morgan says more with her look than with her words. Hannah went home for support. That's the message I'm getting.
"Got it. Thanks." I rush past her and down the stairs. It takes twenty minutes without traffic to get to Hannah's from here. I hope I get there before she leaves.
I hope I'm not too late to fix this.
This happens every single year the first week of school—I retreat into a vortex of mindless survival. You would not believe the week I've had being the Teacher on Special Assessment at my site and the needs that popped up. I'm "toe up" as we said in the 80's (aka dead) which is why I FORGOT TO POST MY FEELS!!
Until now...when I was scrolling through Wattpad and REMEMBERED. And this one is so huge in Matt's development as a human!! BTW disclaimer: I am not a therapist or trained in any type of psychology. This chapter is based on my experience as a client of several relationship therapists and counselors over the years. I'm a firm believer in couples therapy BEFORE things get to a crisis point. My 25 years with my guy is a testament to the fact that he agrees and willingly attends with me on occasion. Just wanted to put that out there.
Nirvana is Matt's inner thoughts, which I have stated many times over the years. Everything he's done has been "about a girl" named Hannah.
In case you missed it, the paperback for Broken Lullaby is now live!!