Chapter 25
VASIAH
Ialmost lost this woman.
I shook my head, then stared up at the ceiling.
After we left the restaurant, we caught a movie, then went back to my house.
We held each other all night, not really speaking or feeling the need to make love, but I began to think of ways I could repair what I did, even though I apologized.
She left to go to work; she had five heads to do today and had to oversee final repairs at her salon suite.
If I didn’t see her tonight, I’d see her tomorrow night.
I had more pressing matters to attend to today.
Therapy was something I never really thought about.
Like many, I assumed that therapy was for people who had severe mental health issues or those who had much more fucked up lives than me.
Other than losing my mom at five, I had a decent upbringing.
My Pops was a good man who instilled the right values in me.
I had a career I liked, friends I could count on, a healthy extended family dynamic, and dreams that I was working towards.
I thought I was good.
But that blow up with LaReina… I felt like if I didn’t nip it in the bud, it would bite me in the ass and I’d lose that girl forever.
I didn’t want that. I know I lived a long time without her, but now that she was a part of my world, I no longer wanted to know what life was like without her.
I needed to get my shit together, so I sent a text to Rae and asked her to send me the info for her therapist lady.
Reading up on the site, I knew I wasn’t like any of the clients she usually serviced, and what was even more ironic was that she didn’t even service a large Black male population.
But sometimes we shouldn’t wait for shit to hit the fan to get some help.
The moment we notice even the smallest thing, we should go talk to someone.
Begrudgingly, I climbed outta bed. I called off work to do this, completely over clocking in to make someone else’s dreams come true.
My dreams weren’t dormant; it's just that when you’re working full time to fund the dream, finding that extra energy is challenging at times.
I knew it wouldn’t always be like this, though.
I just needed to find the discipline and lock in.
Once I showered and dressed, I made the drive to the rehab facility and took a deep breath before I got out. No one knew what I was doing today, and for whatever reason, my throat wanted to close up whenever I thought about sitting on that couch and baring my soul.
Did you even bare your soul in therapy? Pop and I didn’t really talk about his sessions, come to think about it.
The last thing he mentioned was that the lady encouraged him to start dating again, and that was the last I heard of it.
I made a mental note to tap back in with him and ask how that was going.
Crossing the threshold, the lobby of Love Rehab looked and felt welcoming with its neutral tones and the smell of vanilla and citrus in the air.
The tall woman with a Jamaican accent led me down to what I assumed was Dr. Love’s office, but I was thoroughly surprised.
I expected a couch and chair set up; instead, I was greeted with a large flat-screen TV and a video game on the screen. I looked around, bewildered.
“Vasiah.”
“Dr. Love?”
She emerged from the other side of the room, smiling warmly.
She was dressed casually in what looked like formal sweatpants that flared out at the bottom and a white muscle tee tucked in, with a red pair of square-frame glasses on her face.
I pegged her to be close to my Pop’s age, but her hair was fully grey, and I wasn’t sure if that was due to age or if she dyed it that way.
“Welcome to Love Rehab. A little birdie told me that you are into video games, and well – I like to make my new clients as comfortable as possible, so that’s why the room is set up the way it is.”
My shoulders relaxed, and I unclenched my jaw. When I asked Desiraè about what I should expect from her, the only thing she said was that she’s very unorthodox. I didn’t know what I was walking into, but I didn’t expect this.
I fucked with it.
“I…wow. This is cool as hell.”
She smiled again, then motioned for me to have a seat and pick up a controller.
I was curious – I didn’t peg her as someone who gamed, but clearly I shouldn’t judge based on outward appearance.
She had a PS5 set up and a selection of games.
I settled on Demon Slayer. It was quiet for a moment as she observed me.
“So according to your intake form, you said the main thing bringing you in was a fight you had with your girlfriend. What was the fight about?”
I gulped. Straight like that, huh? “Ummm… well, we went to a day party with her family and friends. Everything was cool at first, until some NBA player ass nigga walked up to her trynna speak to her. Asked her why she don’t call him.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“Kinda jealous. Like, my girl makes her own money, so I know she’s not a groupie or a bird who would just go after any nigga with money, but I was flabbergasted that somebody I watch on TV knew my girl’s name and was pressed over her.”
“Hmm. So did you address it then and there?”
“Nah. She told him she was married, and she dismissed him. Even still, he didn’t even acknowledge me until she said that, and she was sitting right between my legs. Kinda crazy to me.”
“Why didn’t you address your feelings?”
I cringed. “Because I felt like it would make me look like an insecure ass nigga. And I’m not like that.
My girl is a gorgeous woman. And I didn’t know that being a hairstylist in this city could yield so much popularity.
I’m a regular dude, Doc. Everybody in her circle is a successful business owner.
” I cringed even more because I felt like I sounded like a bitch.
If we weren’t on the first floor, I’d jump out a window.
“So then what happened?”
I paused the game, turning to look at her. “Why do I feel like you already know this story?”
“Whether I do or don’t, I haven’t heard it from your perspective. Unpause the game and finish telling me,” she admonished. I smirked. This therapist lady was a lil spicy.
“Aight, aight, aight… so after we left the day party, yet another nigga was being friendly with her.”
“Was this nigga one from her past?”
My eyes stretched. “Aye yo,” I chuckled. “What kinda therapist are you?”
“Well-qualified, well-degreed, and I do very well at my job, Mr. Hill. And absolutely nothing like you think I should be. You gon’ answer the questions or what?”
Respect.
“Nah… he wasn’t from her past, but he was hella familiar with her because he said he missed her and that the owner named a hookah flavor after her, and that’s where my antennas went up.
So I asked her, who the hell owned the spot, and she tells me it’s the nigga I knocked out on our first date.
” Saying it out loud sounded very ridiculous, like something straight out of a sitcom.
My life was so simple before LaReina entered it.
“You…wait….I’m sorry,” she burst into a fit of laughter. “Okay. You beat someone up on your first date with her?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Some half Puerto Rican looking nigga came up to her wilding while we were dancing and grabbed her arm. I didn’t think twice about beating his ass. Because why would you think it’s okay to touch the love of my life like that?”
“Damn! So… you already ran into this individual, and she took you to the spot he owned? What happened after that?”
I paused the game and looked at her sheepishly. “I… knocked him out again. We got put out by security, and I blew up on her, telling her she was bad for business.” Repeating the statement felt like poison on my tongue. I really hurt my baby’s feelings, and I hated myself for that.
Dr. Love’s brows furrowed. “What does bad for business mean?”
“To be honest, Doc… I don’t know. I’m not one to blame something on the liquor because, as we know, a drunk mind tells sober thoughts, and I had already been feeling some type of way…maybe we can call it inadequate? But that shit just came out.”
“I imagine she didn’t take it well.”
“She slapped the shit outta me!” I rubbed my cheek, and I swear I saw a ghost of a smirk curl up the corner of her lips. By the time I blinked again, her face was neutral again.
“And that made you feel…?”
“Like I deserved it. I realized immediately what I had done and felt shitty about it. But I was angry. I gave her like a day, then I started calling and texting to no avail. To be honest, I wouldn’t talk to me either.”
“So how did you all get back cool?”
“She and my pops have bi-weekly outings without me. They are platonically smitten with each other. He says her personality reminds him a lot of my late mother. Anyway, I called my Pops and told him what happened, and after he cursed me out, he told me what restaurant they were going to that day, and I popped up. I sat down, and we apologized to one another, and she came back to my place. We didn’t fu-...
I mean, have sex; we just held each other.
That’s when I knew I needed a session with you. ”
I unpaused the game and let my words hang in the air. Reina had said she forgave me, but the way my anxiety was set up, I needed to make sure.
“I think that’s so sweet of her and your father to hang with one another. And even though it's only been a short time, could you comfortably say you feel deeply for her?”
“Man… Doc, I love that girl. And it’s crazy because I’ve never been in love before.
Nor have I ever really had a girlfriend.
Just a few situationships here and there.
She’s the first woman I can say I honestly see myself growing old with, and that’s odd, cuz I met her at the end of May this year.
It’s the end of July now, going into August. But everything about her just feels right.
She’s so beautiful on the inside and out.
A lil’ crazy, but I swear she spices up what would otherwise be my very mundane life, though it's full of what I love. The words truly escape me when I think of her, though.”
“So now you’re here to do what, exactly?”
“For you to tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.”
Doc smiled, gently shaking her head. “Aht aht. That’s not what I’m here for. I don’t fix things, and I don’t tell my patients what’s wrong with them because nine times out of ten, they already know.”
“So then what –”
“What I do is help my clients identify patterns and behaviors and help them decide to make better choices as they navigate life. So you want help figuring out how to do what? Not feel insecure because your girlfriend is popular? Learn to accept that men of all different calibers want to be next to her? Or become more secure in yourself?”
I was scared to answer, so I just blinked at her. “Vasiah, one thing I want you to keep in mind is that you and LaReina are both very new to relationships. This very well may not be the last time you let misogyny cloud your judgement –”
“Hold on, I ain’t no chauvinist!"
Her lips curled up. “I don’t doubt that.
However, due to the patriarchy, all men have a bit of internalized misogyny.
It’s the way the world is wired. Misogyny says that women like LaReina – talented, popular, well-respected in lots of different circles, someone who shines brightly – have to be humbled.
I’m not saying you felt the need to humble her when you said those particular things; what I am saying is that perhaps your outburst was indeed due to your feeling inadequate because she picked you to be a part of her world.
You even said it yourself earlier: you wondered what the fuck you were doing there, since everyone around her owns businesses and you’re just “regular,” but I want you to chew on this – if she picked you…
doesn’t that count for something? Wouldn’t that mean that you being “regular” is alright with her? ”
“Yeah… you may be right.”
“It’s quite alright to be different from your spouse in terms of interests, career paths, hobbies, and even who you hang out with.
I think it's common to feel like you don’t belong with someone who you are so different from, because security in self ebbs and flows.
That’s something that can be improved upon, but I’m warning you now: outside of actively choosing you, it is not her job to make you feel like you belong with her.
That is something you’ll have to convince yourself of.
As long as you both are aligned in moving the relationship forward and treating each other as best as you can, then you both will be alright. ”
Ding.
The timer went off, signaling our session was over. I stood, not knowing exactly how to feel now.
I told Doc that I’d be back in about two weeks and walked out to my car.
Doc was right; it wasn’t LaReina’s job to make me feel like I belonged with her.
I know I did, and she with me, but those insecurities, man…
sometimes they whispered, sometimes they were loud, and sometimes they lingered long after the reassurance kicked in.
But as long as we keep choosing each other, we should be alright, right?