Therapy
"Your therapy is not doing well, as I heard." I looked at the man who entered my office without my secretary informing me.
Looking at him, my jaw clenched at the memories that suddenly barraged my mind. Internally shaking my head, I gave the man a neutral stare as he made a sit in front of my desk.
"Nothing is doing well in my life, as you already know." I divert my eyes from the man to my desk, reading reports done by the finance department.
He sighed, loosening his tie as he made an attempt to speak, but I immediately cut him off. "What are you doing here, Yula?" I asked without looking at him, trying to divert my mind from the emotions that are slowly invading my system.
He stopped what he's doing. For a moment, he seemed to contemplate what he's about to say as he kept on opening and closing his mouth several times. Again, he sighed and looked at me for a few lingering seconds.
Despite me not looking at him, I know what look he's giving me. I hate that look. I always hated the way he looked at me these past few years. I despised that look that everyone was giving me. As if I was a fragile little child, afraid that I would break any moment.
That look of pity.
Of sorrow...
Of guilt.
"Arra, come on." He pleaded. Looking at me as if I was lost for years.
Maybe because I was.
Maybe because I am.
I wonder why he's pleading now, though. He wasn't like this before. I don't even know why he's here in front of me now. He should be with his new wife right now, and not with me.
Was it because I was pulling him down again? Was it because I was becoming a burden to him? Or was it because he wants me out of his life for good? That he had to sort to pleading just so he can get rid of me?
He was about to speak again when I cut him off, "I can't do this now, Yula. I have a business to manage and as you can see, I'm busy. So, please. Just leave."
He paused. Hurt and guilt shining in his eyes. Those eyes. Those very same eyes that gazed at me when I was afraid. Those eyes, the color of the sky as you look through a peaceful lake. I always envied him. They shared the same cerulean eyes, like our mother, while I shared my hazel eyes with our father. It was so light that when hit by a ray of sunlight, it almost appeared to be gold.
Again, he sighed. Since the moment that he stepped inside my office, he has been sighing nonstop. I always do that to him. I always make him sigh. Actually, I always do that to everyone around me. Make them sigh. Make them quit on me. Because I was always a burden to them.
A heavy burden that just won't stop existing.
"I'll come back again, Arra. Maybe by that time, you are ready to talk to me. It's been years, and I miss my baby sister so much. After all that has happened, you are my only family left. So please. Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?" He smiled a sincere smile. The smile that he has always given me throughout the years every time I was scolded by our mother.
I didn't respond.
"By the way, Ambrose wants to see you tonight. Please come. If not for me then for her. Please." I silently nodded my head and avoided his eyes. I don't want him to see the hidden tremors in them.
He nodded his head, stood up and walked to my chair. I didn't have the time to react as he caressed my hair, kissed my head and said 'I love you' before walking to the door and stepping out of my office.
A few moments passed by and I was still staring at the space where he seated, unmoved.
I smiled. Despite the turmoil brewing in my mind, I slowly glanced at the door that he walked in just a few minutes ago. I couldn't help it as the memories rushed to me. Again.
"You should go to therapy, Arra. It can help you." A female voice said beside me. I couldn't recognize the voice, but I know she was familiar with me.
"Please, baby sis. You should also help yourself. What would they think if they were here? What would he think?"
Trying my best to ignore the voices in my head, I stood up, staring straight at the man who had a look of concern on his face. At my sudden movement, he stepped back and the woman beside him held his arm as if stopping him from doing something.
"Stop the crap, Yula. They won't be able to think because they're not here anymore. They're not here anymore, Yula, not anymore!" I sobbed as I looked at my brother. Pain coursing through my system as I was once again reminded of the past. Of that tragedy.
Of my misery.
"Arra!" he called but it was too late.
Choking on my own misery, I let the tears fall silently. My lungs gave out as I held my breath to prevent myself from sobbing. But like my poor excuse of a life, I failed.
I sobbed as I was once again awash with my mistakes. At the memories that flooded my brain.
I closed my eyes so hard it hurt. Trying to clear my head of the sudden invasion of the voices clawing at me, I thought of the different colors that I memorized in my mind, one of the many advices of my therapist that I find helpful.
'Therapy has never been my friend. It has always been my enemy, Yula. Always my enemy.'
