To Learn to Let Go | ✔

Chapter 24

"So I did a thing..." I said to Dr. Meyer at the start of our session Saturday morning. She clicked her pen and looked at me with a crooked grin, waiting for the crazy tale I was about to tell.

"What did you do Grayson?" She laughed.

"I uh... h-hooked up with Trent?" It came out as more of a question than a statement. Dr. Meyer's face instantly fell, losing the playful demeanor.

"Now when you say 'hooked up,' what do you mean by that?"

"You know..."

"No, Grayson, 'hooking up' means something very different to everyone."

"H-how do I say this without being c-crude... um, we h-had oral s-sex." I managed to spit out.

"When did this happen?" She looked concerned now, leaning forward in her chair and scribbling feverishly.

"Thursday."

"What happened Thursday that led to this?"

"W-we had our first kiss. And w-we were at his h-house alone that night and I just... I d-don't know what got into me."

"So you initiated the acts?"

"Y-yes."

"What else has happened this week?" She asked as she jotted down more notes.

"I r-relapsed," I admitted.

"When?"

"Wednesday night," I rolled up my sleeve and showed Dr. Meyer the healing cuts. "I haven't done it since though, I promise."

"Did you experience any stressful situations on Wednesday? Anything triggering?"

"I met with my l-lawyer about the trial, we were practicing t-testifying. She a-asks some really shitty questions."

"Shitty how?"

"Like... real... and hard. B-but that's what it's going to be l-like on Wednesday."

"Oh right, Wednesday's your trial," she said as if it was no big deal, and she had forgotten about it. I knew she hadn't, and this was some weird therapeutic technique.

"I h-hooked up with Trent because I was f-freaking out about the trial, didn't I?"

"It's common for people who have experienced a trauma, particularly sexual assault, to engage in promiscuous sex or just out of character sexual experiences."

"So, this is normal?"

"Yes. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're feeling very out of control right now. You survived an attempted sexual assault by the man who abused you since you were a child, you have to testify against that same man in court in less than a week. Is that right?"

"W-well yeah. Adam t-took everything from me. H-He's still controlling everything I do. Wh-What do I have control over?"

"I don't know, Grayson. What do you have control over?" Have I ever mentioned that I hate therapy? Because now that Dr. Meyer asked me, I can think of quite a few things.

"M-My relationship, school like my grades and s-stuff, cutting, h-how I treat myself, and others, my own actions, my th-thoughts."

"You control your thoughts?" Dr. Meyer asked, not in a condescending way, but in a way that was calling me out for my hypocrisy. Just last week I was in here held hostage by my thoughts of guilt.

"Not as well as I'd like," I laughed.

"How come?" Dr. Meyer asked.

"Because I have these intrusive thoughts all the time, it' hard not to listen to them."

"What makes it hard?"

"They're just so loud, and convincing."

"What would you like to say to those thoughts? If you knew they would listen?"

"Fuck off. I'm n-not broken, it's not my f-fault, I can t-trust people, I'm enough, I'm beautiful."

"What stops you from saying those things?"

"They're n-not true."

"I'm going to challenge you, repeat those things to yourself every time you feel anxious, or depressed, or those thoughts creep back in. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure," I sighed. I didn't see how that would change anything. I had to actually believe what I was saying in order for anything to change. Our session was over shortly after that. I left feeling better about what Trent and I did on Thursday night. In the moment it felt amazing, it felt like what I wanted and needed. But I woke up the next morning feeling... not regret, but like I didn't know who I was. I'm sure Trent noticed. I was pulling away like I did when we first met. I just didn't trust myself to not try to do it again, and until I had an answer as to why it happened in the first place, I couldn't let it happen again. Thankfully now I knew that there wasn't something wrong with me. I just wanted to feel in control, but I could find that control elsewhere, Trent would let me find that control elsewhere.

"How are you feeling?" Trent asked when we were hanging out that night. We were cuddled up in my bed watching more Star Trek, sharing a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"Better," I said.

"You're letting me hold you so that's something. Did you regret what we did the other night?"

"No, I just f-felt kind of... lost. I didn't kn-know the Grayson that had those wants and desires and I felt like a s-stranger to myself."

"I get it, I really do. And we don't have to do it again, not until you're really ready."

"I... I think I would want to, I j-just have to be the o-one to initiate it."

"Of course, love." Trent pulled me tighter to him and kissed my head. I smiled and snuggled closer to his chest, breathing in the familiar sent of sandalwood and cigarettes.

"I realized I need to feel like I have c-control, like over my life, ya know?"

"I know, it's hard to feel that way after what you've been through. But you always have a say in this relationship, you have control over every situation we're in just as much as I do. If you don't want to go somewhere, we won't, if you don't want to do something we won't. I promise you I will always respect you and your boundaries."

"You have n-no idea how much that m-means to me," I stuttered.

We spent the rest of that night cuddling and watching Star Trek, it was innocent and sweet. We laughed at all of the super corny parts, Trent kissed my forehead at least once a minute, and I would lean up and kiss his cheek every once in a while, causing him to blush and smile. I couldn't figure out what Trent saw in me; this damaged boy who bumped into him in the hallway and then almost got killed by an asshole bully. No, Grayson remember what Dr. Meyer said. Tell that voice to shut up. I'm beautiful, Trent is lucky to have me, just as lucky as I am to have him. I deserve him, I deserve love.