"The moment she left...it felt like she just took an organ away with her. I felt completely empty, and just l-lost. For a second there, I forgot where I was...who I was. It was too much for me to take in. I just lost what I've been chasing after for six months right after I had it in the palms of my hands. My entire body ached with numbness...I felt -uh- anger pulse. In my blood. Like I was in a war with my... heart. I wanted to kill my heart. Indirectly. I banged my forearm everywhere. On the wall, on the table, on my desk...on the lounge chair where she sat. If it wasn't for Michelle, my wrist would've been fractured by now. I knew I couldn't stay there after she left, so I packed and drove here."

If there was any person in the world to calm my heat and the raging fire inside me after what I did, it would be my mother.

The air around me...me being present back in the shelter...where I've been raised among children whom suffered just as I did.

"If you loved her so much," one of the girls cleared her throat, brushing her black hair to her shoulder. "Why did you help her get closer to her boyfriend instead of confessing your love to her?"

"I didn't want to scare her. She's 17...I'm 24."

"How can she be scared of you when you're the only person she depended on to treat her anxiety?"another boy about her age nervously joined, "besides, it's just a number...seven years? That's not a big deal."

"It still wasn't worth it. That just confused her."

"Remember nine years ago, Ross," she held my hand, making me look up into her eyes. She always held the same amount of emotions in her eyes....she always numbed pain with her brown orbs.

I've always been honored to call her, a person who held such amount of care, my mother.

"You were only thirteen when you were dealing with social anxiety and depression...almost paranoia, and you always told me you hated the way you stuttered. I sent you to every psychologist I knew across the city. My heart would just break knowing that none of them understood you the way you wanted them to. You'd give up after every new session, saying that you didn't want to waste my money. But I insisted, until we realized we went to every single doctor there was here. You came to me that day...you told me you were going to face it naturally. And then you looked right into my eyes and whispered 'I want to be a therapist to help people like me. But until then, I hope I find my own therapist.' And you did find her, you just never realized that you needed her help as much as she did."

Shame. I felt ashamed of myself for never realizing that any sooner.

My biggest mistake was letting her doubt my love for her. I wish I had showed her the way she let my heart beat instead of hearing hers. I wish I had showed her the way she took my breath away instead of trying to take hers.

I wish I had kissed her one last time instead of forbidding her lips on anyone else's.

*************************

If there was anything better than being in your childhood room, it's being in your childhood room in the darkness, where complete silence filled the air.

Everything was just the way it was six years ago, unlike every other room. The bed, the walls I drew on most of my memories, the books I've let my imagination out on; they were all left untouched.

"Dr. Lynch?" I heard a soft voice call, making me turn to my left, seeing Isaac, the 15 year old version of me.

"Yes, Issac?"

"I was going to tell you the last time you visited...I just never got the chance," I shifted on the couch to face him properly, seeing him fiddle with his bed sheets. "I went through your journals."

I smiled at his nervous state lightly.

The journals I stacked up before leaving, on my eighteenth birthday, were meant to be seen by whoever owns the room after me.

"What do you think? Worth publishing worldwide?"

"Uh," he looked at me, completely confused before bringing his blonde hair away from his eyes. "Actually, definitely worth it. I have to admit; reading it was the only way I was able to overcome some of my toughest times. Who knows how it could help other people?"

"It's why I decided to be a therapist," I smiled, hearing him sigh lightly. "What are your plans?"

"I want to become a pilot...working heavily on that. I hope I achieve it all," he snuggles into his comforter before proceeding. "I'm also really into writing. It helps me deal with my...excess emotions. I hate that love takes a huge portion of my emotions. It makes me sound too soft. I know I'm not that."

"Being a lover doesn't make you soft. The fact that you let your emotions under Love's submission is pure strength. Look at me...a twenty four year old man...this tall, this big, is lovesick for a teen. Calling myself soft or weak would just humiliate my self esteem. That alone could destroy your confidence."

"You're right," he sighed, shifting on his back to stare at the ceiling. "Though, I've got to tell you....Zack was right. Your age gab isn't that much of a big deal. It's all in your head."

"That just emphasizes how love blind I am," I almost whispered, shaking my head.

"You seem as attached to her as she is to you."

I seem as foolish as oblivious pigeons.

"Lia...Lia wake up. We have thirty minutes till they're here."

It's a little hard to admit that I've been avoiding pain with sleep. I never knew the impact he had on me until I found myself promising the guardians my strength by dreaming about him.

I completely understand my father's worry, but I also know he has in mind what I'm going through.

But really?? Meeting my to-be step sister this morning?

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Please, Lia..."

"Don't worry," I slowly walked to my bathroom, locking it before I forthwith undressed myself.

I took a quick, cold shower, changed into one of my fancy little dresses and did my hair and makeup.

"Lia!" I heard Dad call, making me fluff my hair one last time before I left the room, running down the stairs.

He fixed the dessert posions on the counter before turning to me, an evident smile on his face.

Rydel and Theo. A great match, to be completely honest.

"I really hope you get along well with her daughter," his nervous sigh made my heart flutter lightly.

One of the most important things my father and I live upon is care. I care for him, his decisions and the effect of my decisions on him. He cares for me, my decisions and most importantly, the effect of his decisions on my emotional state.

"Don't worry," I smiled at him lightly, brushing my dress, "an angel like Rydel must have a daughter just as polite as her."

He bit his lip, almost protesting before the doorbell rang. I backed away, leaving room for him to answer as my heart started attempting to escape my ribs.

"Hey, how are you," I saw him kiss her blushing cheek softly, leaving me eager to see her.

"Uh Lia," he turned to face me before moving out of the way.

And I wished he didn't.

"Hey, sister!"

"T-Tanya??"

🙈🙈🙈