There are cracks, but now the light can shine through.
Chapter Fifteen
“Call me a criminal, killing her heartache with unsteady hands and lips shaped like a knife.”
—Oliver Masters
Ollie.
OVER THE LAST WEEKEND, I slumped it with Zeke.
Hid from the world.
Hid from Mia.
I’d taken over Zeke’s project of “fixing Ollie and Mia” by gluing the origami rose back together, but only after Zeke had experienced a nervous breakdown over it. That final time I’d made the attempt, the pieces had fallen back into place with ease. Perhaps time was all that had been needed, or the right frame of mind. Either way, I wasn’t going down anymore without a fight.
Mia and I was something worth fighting for. We were written in the stars. That’s the thing about love. Once it touches you, it doesn’t go away. It’s laced in every breath. It’s embedded in your skin. It seeps deep into your soul and lives forever, and you spend your entire life feeding that single heavenly feeling afraid it will leave at some point.
But love never leaves you. It only hides behind every temporary emotion until you deserve to be embraced by it again. And bloody hell, Mia deserved it.
Dr. Conway held the answers. Every day this week, I’d shown up in her office, even on days I didn’t have an appointment. We’d practiced meditation. We’d practiced control. She’d brought me back through the most traumatic situations, and I’d learned how to face it and let it go.
Today was no different.
“You should take a break, Oliver. You’re going to overexert yourself,” she said as soon as I walked through her door during lunch.
I sank into the couch and dropped my head back. “No, this is working. I’m ready.”
“You have group therapy in a few hours.”
My eyes opened to see a white ceiling, and I smoothed my hand over my bouncing knee. “If I have to live one more second in this hell, just kill me now.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Conway muttered.
I lifted my head off the couch to face her. “Like what? You have no clue the constant battle I deal with every bloody day. The back and forth—the numb, the pain. I feel like I don’t know myself anymore.” Leaning forward, I dug my elbows into my knees. “Even on the meds, every whisper is a scream. Every dig is a blow. Every look is a blame. Every smile makes me high,” I grit out. “A female so much as breathes on me, my dick gets excited—excuse my fucking language—everything that made me happy is missing, and everything that sucks the life out of me surrounds me. I’m tired of being one way or the other, feeling everything and nothing. One second I want to kiss her. The next I want to strangle her. Do you catch my drift?”
Rage spilled out of me, and Conway met my gaze, refusing to look away. She understood exactly what I said. “I’ve been doing research,” she started to say.
I collapsed back into the seat and stretched out my legs in front of me. “Research, yeah? And how is your research going to help me?”
“Explain to me, when are you most calm? Without the medication.”
My brow spiked in the air, and I studied her features. Conway’s big brown eyes stared down at me in all seriousness. “I’m calm when I’m alone … when I’m writing … when she’s safe and happy. I’m calm when Zeke’s lip lifts into that stupid half-smile.” I couldn’t help but grin thinking about it.
Conway matched my smile. “And when you’re angry? What pisses you off?”
“Being played, used as a pawn in a game. They think I’m a fucking fool, as if I don’t know what’s up their sleeve, but I see it in their eyes. Too many people in Dolor have a dodgy agenda, and it’s overcrowded. A dark cloud hovers over this place, and I can’t seem to escape it. It’s stifling.”
“They?” she asked.
“What?”
“You said ‘they.’ Who are you talking about?”
“Everyone!” I jabbed.
Conway lowered her head and smiled.
I cocked my head. “What?”
She pulled out a sticky note and clicked her pen. “I’m going to write down a book I want you to try and find at the library when you leave here. Hopefully, we have it. If not, let me know. I can order it,”—she handed me over the bright yellow paper— “I think it’s important you look at all avenues.”
I scanned the paper. Emotional Sensitivity and Intensity. “You think I’m misdiagnosed?”
“No, I never said misdiagnosed. There is science, Oliver, but then there is spirituality. I think it’s important for you to look at all avenues,” she reiterated with a wink. “Look up hyper-empathic, too. You may find you can relate.”
“And in the meantime?”
Conway exhaled and crossed her legs. “In the meantime, I want you to avoid all situations and confrontations from negative people. If that means isolating yourself, very well. Only until you understand and learn to identify and control your emotions. Don’t put yourself in a situation that you know will set you off or be around those who are negative. That negative tension rubs off on you a whole lot deeper than most.”
Dropping my chin, I smiled. Finally, there was a light at the end of this long spiraling tunnel.
“Because you are hyper-sensitive, the medication also affects you more intense than others,” Conway continued, “I don’t know how much lee-way I have in lowering your dosage or getting you off it entirely, but in my honest opinion, you shouldn’t be on it. This medication isn’t going to help, it’s only going to hinder. Let me see if I can make a few phone calls. Until then, try to stay out of trouble.”
“I understand. Thank you.” I meant every word.
“And Oliver?” Looking back up, she leaned over and grabbed my gaze. “If you don’t walk out of here with Mia, know there are other fish in the sea.”
In an instant, my smile faded. “You don’t get it. Mia is the sea.”
“It’s crazy, mate. This book explains me to a T.” I flipped another page over and scanned over the words. The book she recommended wasn’t in the library, but I did find another regarding emotional intensity. “Know despair, but also beauty and rapture? Check. Experience emotions at an unparalleled level of depth and complexity? Check. Constant overflow of both negative and positive feelings? Check. Strong emotional connection with certain people? Fucking check.” Mia. I tapped the page with the back of my hand. “I can get through this without the pills, my friend. I only need to identify what I can physically and mentally handle.”
Zeke smiled.
I grinned and jumped to my feet. “I can’t wait any longer. I have to go find Mia before group therapy.”
If vultures hadn’t been surrounding us, I’d show her how I truly felt back in the hall when she had confronted me. I’d wanted to hold her, to kiss her. All I had wanted to do was grab her by the hand and runaway with her. I’d seen the look in her eyes. In an instant, she had forgotten everything I’d done, forgave me, and looked my demons square in the eyes and accepted every side I’d been so scared to show her—all in one look.