Meant to Be

Chapter 19

Rhylee

"I am so glad that you're a Muggle-born." I shifted on my heel, turning away from the mirror to Lyla who was laying on her bed, her head resting on her crossed arms, her eyes on me.

"I don't think anyone has ever said that to me." Confusion creased her face. "It's supposed to be a compliment, right?"

"Yes." I grinned at her. "If you weren't Muggle-born, you wouldn't know about therapy, and the therapist you recommended me might have just saved my life." By inhaling sharply I turned back to the mirror and stared at my figure.

"It's been all you, darling. You have to want help to gain something from therapy." I locked my eyes with hers in the mirror. I loved nothing more than her friendly smile. She was the best friend I could ask for and I am the luckiest person alive for her not to give up on me.

"I know." I turned around to look at my arse.

"Can you stop checking yourself out in the mirror? The dress looks great on you!" She rolled her eyes at me.

"I don't know." I pouted. "Perhaps the blue one would be better."

"You do realize that we have been doing nothing else but picking your dress for the last two days." She smirked at me.

"Don't give me that face! I'm nervous, okay!" I stomped my foot against the floor as if angry. In reality, I was just hoping to calm down my nerves.

"It's time to move on, Rhylee. You said it yourself that your therapist said it's time you forgive yourself." She stood up and took the blue dress which was hanging over the dresser door and took it off the hanger. "But just in case, try this one again." She winked. I appreciated how supportive she was. She was all I had left.

I was such a mess. I still can't believe that I let myself get so low. I hit rock bottom and then went even deeper. It's a miracle what 6 months of therapy can do for a person. How do wizards not have that!

Perhaps, they are afraid of the pain that it brings. Because it was painful. Especially the first few sessions when the therapist is getting to know you and you start figuring out what your problem is. I knew what it was. I just couldn't get over it.

Everybody telling me it was an accident doesn't just make the guilt disappear. It doesn't make you feel better. You don't just forget about it. When you do what I did, you don't just move on. But as I learned from my sessions, you can't blame yourself forever either. Forgiveness and loving myself were something that was missing from my life.

It's crazy to think that so many people around you keep telling you that it wasn't your fault and that you can't just go around and search for things that will make you miserable just to punish yourself and you never believe them and always brush it off. But when you hear it from someone specialized to tell you things like this, you suddenly think that maybe, just maybe all your friends were right.

Of course, it didn't happen overnight and I even tried convincing Dr. Whitmoore that I will never stop blaming myself for what happened in my seventh year at Beauxbatons but I got there...eventually.

"So what are you going to say to him?" Lyla asked as she zipped the dress for me.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." I bit my cheek. "I don't even know if he'll want to talk to me."

"Right." She raised her eyebrows at me and laid back on her bed. "Are we going to go through this again?"

"I'm serious! I'm just going there to celebrate the love between two people." I finally stopped looking at myself in the mirror. I still don't know which dress to pick.