dorothea | h.s.

all the wrong reasons

"Dottie. It's been a while."

With my therapist in New York and me in L.A. most of the time, we had gotten used to sessions over the phone. I, however, hadn't scheduled an appointment since I got home.

"It has," I sighed, "that's my fault, really."

Amelia, my therapist of almost four years now, was the best thing that had happened to me. "That's alright," she said with a smile through my laptop screen that always put me at ease. "How have you been?"

I didn't know where to start. I had been a lot of things, but all of those feelings were monumental enough for an entire session on their own.

Sensing my hesitation, she continued. "I see you're somewhere new?" It was a statement but a question as well.

"I am. I'm at my parents' house. In Florence."

Amelia's eyes widened. She knew I hadn't been back since I left. "Why is that? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, of course," I nodded, taking a deep breath. "I needed a reminder, I guess."

"A reminder of what?"

"Who I am. Why I was there, back in L.A., and how I got there." I didn't have much more of an explanation than that.

Amelia thought over my words. "Do you think you're getting that there now?"

My eyes left her face on my screen to think. I wasn't sure what I was getting here. My expectation was not far from utter enlightenment. I expected to touch Florence soil and immediately be cured of the dreariness plaguing my existence and purpose. If I told Amelia that, she'd have laughed. I'd have laughed with her. I knew things like that weren't fixable with a plane ride, but it was nice to dream of it.

"I don't know," I finally said, making her nod once again.

"Well, what is it like being back? Anything of note?" She was pulling for something out of me, as I gave her nothing to work with. I was typically great at keeping her busy during our hour, talking her ear off, and practically making her fight for a chance to speak, but today, I didn't know what to say. And I was the one who scheduled this.

"It's been eventful," I laughed. "I, um, I got to see my friends again. A couple of times." I knew what she would ask next, so I continued to talk. "They're all grown up, which is weird because I know I am too, but it seems stranger when it's them."

Amelia smiled. "It's different when you haven't been around them while they're growing up." She breathed in after her sentence, which always meant she was going to say something she was afraid would hit me hard. "Is Harry there?"

I tried to breathe when I heard her say his name. "He is."

"Have you seen him?"

"I have."

I was expecting more of a reaction, but Amelia simply nodded, giving me the silence I needed to build up something to say.

I cleared my throat. "We've talked... but we've bounced around the topic of... everything," I said. "He-- uh, he has a girlfriend."

That made her eyebrows lift. "And how do you feel about that?"

"I'm happy for him." It was too quick to come out of my mouth, and I immediately knew she wouldn't believe me.

"I can imagine it's hurtful."

I nodded.

"How have you been handling that?"