Dear Loco,
I go back there, and I bring a death stare you would be PROUD of. She’s IMMEDIATELY off-kilter.
She leads with “You’re early!”. GUILTING! I just stare at her.
She asks me how I’ve been, I say “I’m tired”. She fumbles her way through that whole therapy. She’s uncomfortable, and trying very hard.
I say I don’t want to talk and I ask about her, and it’s just word vomit. She needs to fill the silence.
She tells me things about herself and other clients she has no business telling me.
I set boundaries, and set the record straight.
She’s again pushing for group therapy, like she’s dangling a carrot. I say I will confirm Sunday.
Today, I cut the cord. I tell her “No, thank you”. She says, “Sure , take care and feel free to reach out anytime. 👍🏽”
I felt a little bad for her, but she did not need to come to my rescue nor I hers.
I did a very brave thing today, Loco. I let go.
This whole ordeal confused me because I didn’t understand the purpose of being drawn in to this drama.
Why universe?! I just wanted to focus on me!
But I’ve surrendered need to understand. I cleansed myself of guilt and remorse today. Even my room is spotless.
Chuchacabra is immensely confused because his playground is missing.
I won’t write for some time more. I’m going to use this quiet.
I love you, bean.
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