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“Trying my best.”
“Is there something in particular that’s bothering you? You could always go see a therapist.”
I laugh. “I am a therapist. I don’t need to see one. I know how to handle shit on my own.”
“So, you’re talking to someone about your issues? This isn’t college where you can get a degree to figure out what’s going on with yourself and make a self-diagnosis before going to see someone. You’re in your thirties and in a serious relationship, but you sound like the same ol’ Trace from college who didn’t want help from anyone.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I start with a touch of annoyance.
“I bet you don’t,” he interrupts. “Look, all I’m saying is that you better make sure you’re taking care of yourself in the best way possible or you’re going to fuck up another relationship and get worse in the process.”
“I’m working on it; stop worrying so much. How are things with you?” For the next few minutes, we catch up on what’s going on in our lives. Well, aside from Brittany, since Will doesn’t want to hear anything about that. My next appointment should be here any minute, so I get off the phone after thanking him for his time.
You know, you would think that with me being a therapist and understanding so much about how to better handle problems, that I’d be able to do it myself. Or that my life would be easier because of my knowledge.
It’s not.
I still struggle. I still don’t handle things like I should. Shit is tough to do. I don’t think seeing a therapist would help me. I already know what I need to do, how I should do it; it’s just the doing it part that trips me up. Always has. Even before my problems came, I was more of a listener and helper than a talker. Talking about my problems too much, more than I have with Brittany, is like going against the grain, against my nature.
And yet, it’s completely necessary to keep a functioning, healthy relationship with Brittany. I need to do better. Actions speak louder than words, and right now, I can’t even keep a promise to myself.
An hour later, I get a text from my girl.
Brittany: Good news is appt went GREAT.
Me: ZBB? As in Zac Brown Band? I didn’t know you liked them.
Brittany: One of the few country bands I do like. Totally bummed out.
Me: Sorry. Glad to hear about the therapist, though. I’m getting another dosage increase.
I pull up my web browser. Radio stations do giveaways all the time for tickets to concerts. Maybe I could win us a pair and surprise her with them. Chances are probably slim, but it’s worth a try. I pull up one of the local stations and click so I can listen online after making sure my volume is low. I look down at my phone as I get a text.
Brittany: Hope that helps you. Also, I can’t come over tonight. Bec had a fight with Dustin, so she wants me to hang out with her. Sorry. :/
Me: It’s okay. Hang out with her and have fun.
That’ll give me more chances to try to win tickets anyway. Between appointments, I subtly listen to the radio and try to win tickets to see the Zac Brown Band.
Me: You’re with me tonight. Not accepting no for an answer. Be at my house when I get off work. We’re going out.
Brittany: Out where?
Me: It’s a surprise.
I thought winning tickets was hopeless. I called in every chance I got, but luck wasn’t with me. Today was my last chance. Finally, I got my call through, answered their question, and won a pair of tickets near the stage. Brittany hasn’t stayed the night with me or even hung out with me between being with Rebecca and going to study groups. She’s mine tonight, though, even if I have to drag her kickin’ and screamin’.
I meet her on my lunch break by my car, so she can take my house keys and get in when she gets there.
“What’s this surprise, Trace?”
“Something you’re going to love.” Mentally, I wince at the term. Brittany hasn’t said it again, I haven’t said it, but it’s been on my mind all week. I thought things would be awkward between us, but it’s as if it never happened at all.
“Well, what do I need to wear?”
“Whatever you want. Something casual would probably be best, though.” I do a quick scan to see no
one is around and tug her flush against my body. “Wear something sexy underneath it. You’re gonna want to thank me afterward.” I grin.
