My therapist tells me that Iceland is the best place to live. Being there, he says, feels like standing at the face of the entire universe. Apparently, it can make you feel both euphoric and insignificant at the same time. I'm yet to figure out how that works.

In fact, he has pictures of Iceland all over the walls of his office. I remember the first time I walked in here. It felt like walking into a kid's dream. Portraits of auroras. The world map. Pictures of tiny wooden cabins. I thought I could care less about it but honestly, it has become my favorite room in the world and that surprises me, not because I never expected to find myself liking a doctor's office but because I didn't know I could still be surprised or that I was still capable of admiring something.

"How are you feeling today, Anya?"

"I don't know. It's all hazy".

"Your college life starts tomorrow, doesn't it? How does that make you feel?"

"How should it make me feel, Dr Robert?"

When you spend three years fantasizing about your life after high school, you end up with a solid plan along the way, sometimes so solid that you forget to weave your safety net. It wasn't any different for me. I knew what my major would be. I knew what minors I was going to be choose. I knew what club I was going to be in. I knew what kind of apartment I would rent and what kind of flat mates I would have. 

Of course, Mama warned me not to wander in my head too much. "You can't live your entire life in your dreams, baby", she used to say. But she also used to tell me that passion and diligence are the keys to a better life. So, I thought I could do it; fly away to another world, I mean.

So, when I received the acceptance letter I knew I would get, I shattered. Slowly and then like an explosion. The crying went on for days. I was angry. I was sad. And for the first time in my life, I hated that my family wasn't rich.'

"If I were to dictate your feelings, I'd be a thief, Anya."

"I don't know what to say, honestly. It feels like I'm lying down on a cold, dense forest floor and there's fog all around".

There were times when I wondered why Dr Robert is where he is and not in Iceland. For days, I held myself back from asking him about it. I didn't want to be a reminder of ugly days. But when my experience of failed dreams came up for the first time in his office, I couldn't stop myself.

"Sometimes, life happens", he said. "You could build a happy universe for yourself in your dreams. You could keep looking at your blueprint for so many days that you could already feel the texture of your world but still, life happens".

I thought it was a nice way to put it. The PG-13 version. Don't get me wrong- I'm not an entitled brat who throws a fit every time something doesn't go her way. It's just that when it came to me, life happened too many times to just suck it up.

Dr Robert used to be a globetrotter, an adventure junkie, until he had to stop. He said he lost his wife to a car accident and he didn't want his son to feel alone growing up. So, he put his degree to use and settled down.

He tells me of his adventures sometimes and when he does, I listen like my life depends on it because frankly, I think it does. 

There was this one time when he told me about his trip to Mexico right after his graduation.

"I'd do it all over again if I could", he said. "There's no better feeling than that sense of belonging somewhere, even if was for a few days".

The door opens and I see the receptionist folding his arms at the front.

"Dr Robert, there's a person here who wants to see you at once".

His name tag says 'Adrian'. It must be his first day here because I haven't seen him before. I wonder what happened to Shirley, the one before him. She was a million suns packed in a tiny body and as much as that annoyed me most of the time, I must say that I still admire her. She was never quick to judge or fight, even when I broke her nose on my second day here. It's been five months and fifteen and a half days since then.

"As I was saying, I can't see a thing, Dr Robert. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I even want to move from this place; the idea of rotting away here doesn't seem too bad".

Adrian is nervous. I can tell by the way he keeps shifting around on his feet and also by the way he looks like he wants to be anywhere but at the door, waiting for Dr Robert's instructions.

"Dr Robert?"

I've learnt that there are four kinds of responses you get when you tell people your sob story. One, they tell you how sorry they are for your situation. Two, they share their sob story after you, shift the gravity a little to not make you feel like shit. Three, they get uncomfortable probably because they are bad at handling gloomy people or situations. Four, they pull you into an embrace.

Personally, I've always loved the fourth kind. Maybe that's because I've always loved hugs, even as a kid. There was something in that hold and that silence that always comforted me.

"Please let them in, Adrian", says Dr Robert. Then, he looks at me.

"I hope you don't mind, Anya".

I don't give it a thought.

I only tell him that it's okay.