I could tell the therapist was done with the session when he had crossed his legs for the tenth time in the last five minutes. He was listening to me drone on about the basics, the usual - the day-to-day scam of life. But he could at least show me a fragment of compassion. I was a single twenty seven year old female in today's modern day and age.
Yes, you read that right.
Twenty-seven, single and sex deprived. A solid equation with the outcome of wanting to off yourself with a bottle of your own antidepressants.
Sure, I hadn't been touched by a man in two and a half years. And yeah, I complained about it every five minutes. But who the fuck wouldn't?
I haven't gotten laid.
It's boiled down to survival instinct at this rate. I know, I know the whole reason I started these sessions was so I could find the comfort of wanting human touch again. But there comes a time when the butterfly has to come out to play, right?
I was fantasizing about everyone. Men, women, you name it. I can't even stop myself anymore, all I can think about is sex, sex, sex. Especially with people I shouldn't. Like Dr. Bilal for example. His tanned olive skin was calling my name. And it didn't help that he always kept a five o'clock shadow with his jet black slicked hair.
I was hanging on for dear life on the roller coaster of sex, and I can't get off... literally and figuratively.
Sure, there was nobody special in my life, or anybody pining after me. But that didn't mean I couldn't play the field or throw myself at a stranger at the bar. There were plenty of options for an attractive woman to get laid.
"Brea?" Dr. Bilal's voice interrupted my train of thought.
"Sorry," my lips pursed as I slouched into the plush pillowed chair.
"I believe that's our time for today," he said with an exasperated sigh. My eyes darted to the clock on the far side of the wall - 6:33p.m.
Shit, I thought to myself.
"Fuck, I am sorry Dr. Bilal. Look, I won't waste any more of your time. In fact, cancel my next," I stopped for a moment to think, "four appointments." I shuffled in the seat, gathering my set of keys and phone in my hands.
"Four appointments? Are you sure, Brea? You've been seeing me on a weekly basis for the last two and a half years. We can start small. I can cancel the next two, and we can go from there." Dr. Bilal rose from his chair, his pad of paper slapping onto his desk as he walked to the other side of it.
"Uh, yeah, see. I understand, it's just -" I tried to think of an excuse as I rose from the chair. My eyes avoiding the doctors gaze.
"I have -" my mind drew a blank.
"I have to go to my friend's wedding. Yeah, and it's -" I looked up towards Dr. Bilal, whose hands were stuffed into his pockets as he leaned against the corner of the desk.
"It's a destination wedding." I finished off my lie with a flashy smile.
"Destination. Where?" He asked, his left brow quirked up.
"Oh! The Caribbean," I answered quick. My hopes he'd believe me were wavering as he shuffled on his feet. I didn't know many places across the world, and I'm pretty sure I failed ninth grade geography. The location could've been the last choice for a wedding, and my dumb ass wouldn't know it.
"I see," he stalled. He shuffled the papers on his desk, before running his hand across his nose.
"Make it four weeks, then." He admitted defeat.
I offered a small smile and a nod, turning onto my heel as I made a bee-line for the door. There was no way I could continue this lie if he asked me any more questions. God forbid, he asked who she was or how long I've known her.
Oh, her name is Jane Doe, and I've known her for all of .03 seconds. Yes, yes, thank you for playing the game of trying to bullshit your therapist, who knows absolutely everything. And failing, spectacularly.
That would go great...
"Oh, and Brea," Dr. Bilal stopped me as my hand reached the door knob.
"Have a good time, and don't forget to let loose," he offered me a small smile. I nodded my head for a brief moment, a small smile gracing my lips before slipping out the door.
"How did your session with Dr. Bilal go?" My fathers gruff voice filled the near empty apartment. He had been helping me transition into my new apartment the last few days. His strong back and shoulders being the only reason we were almost done.
"It was okay, we decided to take a break for now," I said as I took a bite of my fast food burger. The crunch of the bacon filling the silence between my father and I. His eyes bored into me as I chewed, my brows furrowing together.
"What?" I said with a mouthful of food.
My father's face contorted into disgust as he waved me off.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, weirdo," he teased as he bit into his own burger.
I chewed the rest of my food before swallowing dramatically.
"My bad father for I have sinned," I joked, earning a choked chuckle from the dad. "You looked at me funny when I said we were taking a break on sessions for now." I redirected the conversation back to the premise of my point.
I watched as his shoulders slouched into the back of the dining room chair.
"I just don't know if you're ready or not. You didn't tell me you were even considering it," he admitted. My lips pursed as I wiped my hands off onto my pants, the crumbs falling onto the floor.
"I mean, I don't think any of us will know if I'm ready unless I do it." I stated, my arms extending to reach his hands. Grasping his large, rough hands into my own smaller hands, I looked at him with wide eyes.
"I'll be okay, dad. The hard part is over, and it's time for me to try and have fun again. I want to experience life like I used to. I don't want to be scared anymore," I confided in my father. His shoulders rising with each word as he found strength in me.
I wasn't lying to tell him sweet nothings and make him feel better. They were well intentioned.
I guess, I just didn't know about what was to come...
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