And how does that make you feel?" My therapist asked, nose buried in the yellow notebook in his hands probably making notes on how batshit crazy I am. The room always smelled like cheap air freshener and the amount of feel good quotes posted on the walls made me nauseous.

"I guess it makes me feel sad." The therapy was my dad's idea surprisingly. After the accident, and grueling recovery something in him snapped. Maybe it was almost losing his daughter or something but I'd never seen him so worried. I had jokingly called him 'Mother Hen' on more than one occasion when he was being especially suffocating. In my opinion he should be the one sitting here talking to Henry about his problems but that was an argument for another day.

"Why?"

"well I guess because my mother has always tried to make me resent my father I think because she wanted me to be like her or on her side or something and I am so much like my father she can't stand it," I let my thoughts flow as they came about. Ninety-nine percent of my therapy sessions seemed like it was just me rambling but Henry swore to me that it was helpful. Whether it was helping with my diagnosis or just helping me personally, he wouldn't say.

"I would like to explore that deeper at our next session. Same time as this week?" His voice was the worst part. Flat like paper and just as emotional. Henry was a nice man but I couldn't help but wonder quite often during our sessions if he had perhaps chosen the wrong carrier path.

"Yes sir." I was already getting up and heading towards the door. I needed to get the Hell out of here and get some fresh air in my lungs. Stupid air freshener. "See ya next week!"

The joy in my voice was strictly based on the fact I could see the exit sign from where I was.

Outside, the morning air was cool and bit at my nose but the sun was bright and hopeful as I walked to my Jeep. It took convincing and a bit of bribery on my part to my mother but my old beater was back up and running since the accident. I'd be working off the debt until long after it was dead and gone but that was a future problem.

As soon as I was buckled my phone started to go off. I looked down and swore under my breath once I saw the name.

"Speak of the Devil."

"Is that any way to speak to your mother?" She chided as I flipped it to speaker phone.

"Sorry mom," I answered sheepishly looking over to the passenger seat of my car with a grin. "Just got out of therapy."

A lot of things had changed since the accident. I was really trying; not just for other people but I was really trying for me. No more ignoring my feelings, losing myself in my thoughts, or being numb. I wanted, no I to change or else who knows what I would do. I may have started therapy as a coping mechanism for the survivor's guilt I was bogged down with from the car wreck but I'd been using it to explore other deep rooted issues as well.

"How is it going? Do you need anything?" She was starting to sound just like Dad now. Between the mood stabilizers, the therapy, and my parents constantly hovering I felt suffocated. But it was a good type of suffocation, like people cared and I found myself happy about it.

"No mom," I chuckled as a hand wrapped itself around my thigh as the Jeep roared to life and I giggled. "Look I''m fine, therapy was fine, everything is fine, can I call you back?"

"Are you with that boy again? You never have time f-"

"Goodbye mother I'll call you tonight!" I sang and ended the call just as Judd grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close for a deep kiss.

Seconds later, after we'd resurfaced he grabbed my face holding my gaze.

"You ready to go get breakfast?" I smiled, my lips swollen and red from his teeth.

"Absolutely. There's that new pancake house over by the highway we should definitely check it out," he flashed a grin that reached the corners of his jade green eyes.

"Of course you want pancakes," I replied flashing my own smile and stared at him with adoration. I would drive those eyes wherever they wanted to go. Hell I would follow it to the ends of the Earth if they asked.

I'd been so wrong about Judd Birch even from the get go. And I'd never been happier. And what a genuine happiness it was!

"You know me so well," he leaned in and pecked me on the lips one last time before squeezing my leg. "Come on let's get going. I'm starving."

"I love you," I smiled as I threw the Jeep in reverse and slammed on the gas to back. Out of my parking spot and grabbed his hand to bring it to my mouth to kiss all the while.

"I love you to, you crazy bitch." Those unnaturally green eyes sparkled when he said it and it made my heart melt just like the first time he said it a few months ago when I got out of the hospital.

Oh yeah. Definitely following him to the ends of the Earth.