I Capital L Love You

where i draw the line

March 13th
Dear Oliver,

So, I haven't found anything but a bunch of amazing memories in the past. Surely the present (or maybe the future) has the answer.

I ran it by my therapist, and he smiled when I was done. Apparently, this is exactly what Dr. T wanted me to realize. I can't change the past, but I have a say in the present and my actions. My mindset was totally wrong, and he wanted me to realize it all by myself.

Apparently, Lyssa was right all those years ago – changing my mindset and realizing the fault in my ways were the first steps to recovery. Once I get over this roadblock, I'll actually get somewhere. And that makes me feel a million times better about my seeming lack of progress.

Reliving the past won't do much except invoke nostalgia and remind me how everything began. I studied the history of us so it won't repeat itself, but I have to physically do something so my lessons weren't in vain.

And I'm going to put my lesson to use this very second and examine the present. That's right now: age twenty-two.

It seems very sudden that I'm dumping my feelings into this diary after so many years, but that was one of the things that my therapist actually outright told me to do. He was actually right about it.

And why is that, Oliver? Why is my therapist having me write down my feelings? Why am I even in therapy in the first place?

Because you proposed to Bri.

In front of me and our closest friends.

I don't blame you for it. (Okay, maybe I blame you a tiny bit, but there's no just reason for me to blame you). It's not fair to me, to her, or to you if I continue like this.

In four months, you are going to be a married man, and I will be your best woman in the ceremony. Standing next to the Love of my life as he marries another woman is where I draw the line. I can fake a smile and pretend to be happy for you, but I cannot remain so in Love with you when you are marrying another woman.

     And I'm so very emotionally confused right now. (Okay, but when have I not been emotionally confused?) I want to be a good best friend and be happy for you, but I don't know how. I also don't know if I should be happy that you're my best friend or sad because that's all you're ever going to be. Your engagement cemented that.

So, I naturally started going to therapy. I mean, surely a therapist would help me get through this. My first session was two days after you proposed to her during our family's annual New Year's Eve party. The first thing I did this calendar year was research the best therapists in the area. I found one, and he advised me to start a journal, writing down my feelings and memories with you every few days. And, after the first session, I purchased this journal from Target and got to work.

And I've been bringing my writing to therapy for the past three months.

Three months.

You still don't know that I'm in therapy. To put it bluntly, I feel guilty about it. We haven't kept secrets from each other – ever.

Okay, that's a lie. Let me rephrase that: the only secret I have kept from you is that I have been in Love with you since we were fourteen. (Technically since we were seven, but honestly, who's counting?)

But in your eyes, I have been completely transparent with you since the day we met.

But here I am, keeping another secret from you. I have been as transparent as a rock and it's slowly eating away at me.

I don't know how keeping a secret about going to therapy, of all things, is what makes me feel guilt. Being in Love with you for years is way bigger than lying about therapy, but I don't feel any shame for keeping that secret a secret.

Using that logic, if I don't feel guilty about a huge secret, then I shouldn't feel guilty about a tiny secret.

But, somehow, I still feel that guilt.

The obvious remedy seems like simply telling you that I'm in therapy. Like, c'mon, Sophie, it doesn't seem that hard. Put your big girl pantries back on, for God's sake!

Correction: it doesn't seem that hard on the surface.

When you crack that top layer of ice, you fall into the deep, freezing pond of reasons why I shouldn't tell you.

First, you find the follow up questions you would inevitably ask. Why are you in therapy? Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me?

I don't want to answer any of those questions to your face, so I'll do it here – in this journal to you that you'll never read:

     1) Because I am in Love with you and cannot fall out of Love with you. Why, you ask? I don't know.

     2) Uh, probably not. I don't know.

     3) I don't know.

Now that we've established what I don't know, let's move onto what I do know.

Cue the crickets.

Chirp, chirp.

Okay very funny... Let's start with the basics:

The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. I Love you. A squared plus B squared equals C squared. I Love you. There's Hydrogen and Helium, then Lithium, Beryllium... I Love you. Pi is approximately equal to 3.1415926535897932. I Love you.

That pretty much sums my brain up.

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