As Seok started the engine and pulled away from the parking spot in order to go to the store with her, he thought about having an input in all of this. Since her brother had already done so, he didnât feel like he had any rights, but, as someone whoâd dealt with lossâ-correction, who still struggled to deal with that, maybe she wouldnât mind him speaking up about it. âThatâs the thing, though⌠he commented as he took a right turn and then, continued focusing on the road ahead. âThatâs not how therapy works.â He glanced over to her side because he liked maintaining a somewhat consistent eye contact as he talked to people, but knew he couldnât continue doing that without getting them into an accident⌠and he had a fiancĂŠe and a kid to go back to. âIt only works if you want to get help. If not, no matter how many times you go, it wonât lessen the pain.â Not that it would make the pain disappear. He couldnât even imagine losing a child⌠the pain it must have been, but as long as Ethan didnât want to be helped, she wasnât going to feel better.
âWhy donât you try and looking for something that works for you, then?â He suggested instead, once again, glancing to her, before returning his gaze to the road. âIt took me a few tries before I finally found a therapist that I liked.â He shared, before falling silent for a moment there, debating on whether he should say this out loud or not. Maybe Ethan didnât find it relatable, maybe she didnât want to listen⌠there were just too many variants. âI spent years almost drowning⌠and I know my case canât even be compared to yours butâŚâ He sighed running a hand through his hair. âThings are getting better now. The dark days areânot as frequent. Donât get me wrong⌠depression still cripples me sometimes, but⌠after I chose to get help, it has been getting better.â
She knew what he was saying was true. Therapy would never help her --- one on one sessions, group or any other kind --- if she didnât give it an honest chance. There was no way to heal by sitting and listening, giving the smallest crumbs of details about her life when coaxed. Ethan didnât open up. She gave the illusion that she was opening up. She said what she thought would satisfy others by stating obvious feelings and offered comforting smiles when her turn was up. Every session was the same. A cycle. It was like going to work, something she had to do to get by rather than something she wanted to do for herself. When he looked back to the road, her eyes moved to the window, focusing on the passing scenery. He made it sound so easy, and maybe it was. She had the freedom to try anything until she found something that made waking up each morning a little more bearable. She had the freedom, but she didnât have the heart.
It wasnât that she enjoyed suffering. She wasnât sadistic, she didnât find meaning in the pain or cling to the negativity. She didnât want to continue hurting and living in misery. She supposed she felt like she had to. It was only fair. Her voice came out small and quiet when she finally spoke again. âI donât want to stop missing her.â It was the most honest thing sheâd said in awhile. Logically, she knew there was a difference between missing someone and dwelling on their loss. She refused to listen to logic. âIf I move on, itâs like...â Trailing off, she shook her head. She continued to stare out the window, lips parting again, but it took awhile for any words to come out. âWhat kind of person can be happy without their child? What kind of mother would that make me?â She wasnât sure if she was truly looking for an answer or not. âI had one job, Seok. One job. All I had to do was protect her, all I had to do was keep her safe, and I couldnât even do that. Iâm glad things are getting better for you, but...â She shook her head again, a slight bit frantic this time, her throat closing around her next words. âBut I donât want that. I donât deserve that.â
