You Are Jemily Fanfic

Chapter 25

1 Week Later

JJ POV

Today was the day I finally started therapy. I'd talked myself down quite a bit, reassuring myself that it wasn't gonna be as bad as I thought. My therapist seemed nice, she sounded young on the phone. Her name was Hope, a perfect name for her job. I sat anxiously in a lobby on the second floor of a building that was used for many things. Small businesses, some offices, random stuff. I didn't notice until I stopped that I'd been tapping my heel on the floor. I restrained from doing so and began picking at the nail polish left on my fingers. I heard my name, and looked up to see a tall woman, dressed in jeans and a white blouse, her hair was obviously dyed a metallic grey, silver color with a little bit of purple in it. Just as I predicted, fairly young and seemingly nice. She smiled at me.

"You're Jennifer?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah, you can call me JJ." I stood up and reached out to shake her hand.

"I'm Hope, nice to meet you." She flashed her bright smile at me once again.

I followed her into her office and she gestured towards a couch opposite of her desk. As I sat down she moved her chair in front of her desk, I assumed to make me a more comfortable. She had a sheet of paper, and a pen in hand.

"Okay, JJ," she paused waiting for confirmation that she could call me that, "I want you to write down what you want to get out of this."

I took the paper and pen, almost shocked. I certainly didn't expect this. It didn't take me long to have my two things, and I jotted them down.

-To have answers
-To be able to see the bright side

I handed it back to her, not speaking as she smiled again before reading them over.

"What kind of answers?" Hope asked.

"I'm not quite sure, I came into this looking for a diagnosis I guess. A normal person doesn't just one day decide they want to slit their wrists and bleed out in their friends shower." I spoke harshly.

I didn't mean to say that, but I did and I knew I'd regret it.

"Tell me about that." She said, folding her hands in her lap.

A stereotypical question, I thought.

"About what?"

"Tell me your story, tell me what brought you here."

I knew what she wanted, and I wasn't sure I was prepared to give it to her. I took a deep breath, and began.

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I told her about my unstable relationship with Will, and our last fight. I told her about how Emily, my best friend, came to pick me up that night. I told her about how I was falling apart, and then how I lost myself completely in the shower that day, and what I did. I told her about how Emily stayed with me. I told her about when I kissed her, and then fell in love with her. Then about when we told our team about our relationship, and Will. I told her about all my meltdowns and tear filled rants. I told her everything and it was weirdly the best feeling. Finally someone had listened to my whole story, I didn't have to keep everything inside anymore.

Hope sat forward in her chair and looked baffled.

"That's quite the story. I'm glad you're still here though after going through all that, and that you're here, with me, trying to make things better. It's one thing to try and fix yourself, but another to muster up the courage to ask for help."

I looked down at my knees, smiling.

"I wish I didn't have to. I wish my life would've stayed the way it was." I admitted.

"Everyone thinks that. Everyone wants to live in the past but the first step in all of this is accepting that you can't." She said.

She looked at the watch on her wrist, and then at the clock on the wall.

"We don't have much time left today, but I want to make sure you know that although we don't have another appointment until next week but you can always call me, or schedule one sooner."

She reached behind her to her desk, pulling out a business card and handing it to me.

Hope Lacy, that was her full name.

I looked at her with a smile, thanking her. She began talking but I wasn't really listening, just staring at her. She had to be in her mid 20s, early 30s, not too far from my age. Her natural hair color is blonde, I can tell from her roots which are a slightly different color than her dyed hair. Her smile looks like Emily's, bright and beautiful. She's wearing a small amount of makeup, she had winged eyeliner and I think she's wearing false eyelashes. I snap out of my thoughts and stand up with her to leave. She touches her hand to my shoulder, walking with me. Her hand is surprisingly cold and I almost jumped at the feeling.

I left, taking the stairs down to the first floor, and out the door. I drove home in silence. I was right, it was better than expected but it wasn't exactly fun either.

I came home to Emily sitting on the couch playing on her phone, per usual. She got up to greet me.

"How was it?" She asked.

"Not bad, my therapist, Hope, is nice."

"I'm glad, it's always nice to talk to someone who knows what they're doing." She said.

"Right, a shoulder to cry on with a degree." I laughed.

She smiled, letting out a little laugh.

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and went back to her spot on the couch. I put my bag and took my shoes off and left them in our room. I proceeded to join Emily on the couch.

"I think this is a step in the right direction." I said.

"Me too." She agreed.