"You're not usually one to pace."

"I know I'm not, but I can't help it. Not today. I just- everything's- God, everything's just so messed up right now. I can't sit still."

True to Dr. Hall's commentary, Alessandro was pacing around the office. He was walking back and forth behind the comfortable yellow couch he usually sat on.

Frantic eyes darted around the room, momentarily stopping on a fresh cup of coffee. Frolicking steam made the beverage seem enticing, but the thought of having a caffeine boost certainly wasn't. His nerves were already vibrating uncontrollably; he didn't want to make it any worse.

Trembling fingers fumbled with each other—it was a needed distraction that made rampaging thoughts a little more docile.

Swarms of bees made colonies in his stomach. He could feel their tiny, scratchy little legs running up into his esophagus. Breathing comfortably was difficult. Inhales were shallow, and exhales were harsh.

Tan skin had a thin sheen covering it. Overhead lights made the natural glimmer even more noticeable.

Nothing had even been said yet, but Alessandro was already panicking.

It didn't help that Dr. Hall was writing in her notes again.

Scratching from her pen was too monotonous. Jingling from her chain bracelet was too loud. Background music from the old record player did little to assist. If anything, all of the noises just made his surroundings that much more unbearable.

He wanted to leave—he didn't want to do this today. Unfortunately for him though, Dr. Hall wasn't going to let her patient go until he spilled the beans on what exactly the problem was. Because Alessandro wasn't usually the type of person to openly show when he was feeling nervous or anxious. If he did, there was always this habit of holding back when it came to being honest about his mental state.

He wasn't even attempting to suppress his feelings in any facet. That could only mean they had been festering for too long.

"...Does any of this have to do with Lance?" Dr. Hall asked with a quiet voice.

"Of course it does. All of these conflicting emotions have to do with Lance."

Alessandro wanted to take back the statement as soon as it left his mouth. His current downward spiral wasn't anyone's fault but his own. At least, that's what he believed.

He couldn't control his thoughts or his feelings. He couldn't differentiate between what was right and what was wrong. He desperately wanted to follow his heart, but even that felt like it'd lead to destruction.

Moments like these made him understand why hiding everything away was the easier option. When things were hidden, they didn't have to be acknowledged. When things were hidden, all of his pain was kept at bay.

At the same time though, the more he buried his feelings, the harder they were to control when it was time to actually deal with them.

His metaphorical platter had gotten too full, and everything was starting to topple over.

"No- no, no- I didn't mean that," Alessandro backpedaled. "This isn't because of him. This is because of me. I'm not- he isn't- oh fuck..."

"Just breathe. It's all right. We'll figure all of this out, but you need to calm down first."

Instead of moving to sit down, fast strides were taken over to the water cooler standing by a long window. A small disposable cup was filled to its highest point.  The blue lever was still moving into its previous position by the time half of the beverage was gulped down.

Cold water was refreshing. The tasteless beverage forced a wave of ice to shoot down his parched throat. An uncomfortable crawling sensation in his body dissipated with each swig. The drink also helped to ease the sharp pangs assaulting his stomach.

Another cup of water was brought over to the wooden coffee table. The full container made a home beside a chipped mint colored mug.

Alessandro dragged his hands against his pant legs to dry them, sweat having accumulated on his skin thanks to his nerves. Green eyes screwed shut and encased his world in darkness. Steady counts were chanted in his head. He took a breath in, held it, and took another one out. The action was repeated seven times before he felt comfortable enough to take on the world again.

Dr. Hall offered a delicate smile in return.

"...I'm sorry about that," Alessandro said. "Life really has just been very hectic for me. I- I'm finding it difficult to pursue the things I want. Issues from the past are fucking up the present and it's just- there's so much confusion. I'm so lost. And I need someone to hear me. To help me. Because I feel like I'm drowning; and every single time I think about reaching out, my lungs fill with more water."

"I understand, Alessandro. But in order for me to help you, you need to tell me what exactly is happening. What has you so confused?"

He gnawed on his bottom lip in uncertainty.

Admitting personal thoughts still felt forbidden. If he didn't say anything now though, he knew that he was never going to.

Fleeting reprieve only came in the form of a deep breath. "Lance- he- he has feelings for me. He doesn't know what they mean yet, but he does want to pursue them."

"How do you feel about that?" Dr. Hall asked.

"That's where my conflicts are coming from. Lance and I- we've been sleeping together for awhile now. Feelings were bound to get attached. At least, that's what I expected for me. I had already been dealing with conflicting emotions when we first started getting friendly. But then we started having sex again, and a lot of the emotions I used to have toward him came rushing back."

Scribbling of a pen on paper cut through the silence. "How so?"

"That- that sense of... innocence, I guess- it started coming back. I kept reminiscing about our old relationship as we got reacquainted. I missed how close we used to be. And, despite everything that happened with the breakup and all that, our new relationship started thriving just as quickly as the other one did. We'd flirt, yeah- but I was more than content to just be around him.

"Lance- he makes me feel safe. He knows me, maybe even better than I do. He reads me so well. Because of that, it didn't take much for him to see that I was getting attached. Instead of forcing my feelings out into the open though, he just decided to hang out with me. It was nice being that way again. It felt like- like back then. When we first became friends in high school."

"Your new relationship, is it mimicking the original one?"

"In terms of feelings, yes. In terms of execution, no."

"Could you explain a little more about that?" Dr. Hall pondered aloud.

Alessandro nodded. He shook his hands out before continuing. It was necessary—because this was going to be the first time he vocally declared a specific word into existence. Even doing so in confidence felt terrifying.

"I've fallen in love with Lance again. These feelings- they're even stronger than they used to be. They're more... encompassing. Still, I'm having a hard time being honest about that. He doesn't know yet because I haven't told him. A friend of mine said I should be open, but I'm afraid to be."

Brown eyes narrowed slightly. A pen glided across paper for the millionth time.

From Alessandro's position, he could see short passages being written. They weren't more than a few words in length. Scribbles were separated by bullet points though, and he could see a plethora of them.

There must be a lot more going on than he initially anticipated.

"I'm going to ask you something. Part of my question has to do with she-who-shall-not-be-named. Is that all right?" Dr. Hall warned.

"...Yes. I know that she needs to be brought up because... she's partially why all of this is fucking with me."

"...Are you afraid of being open about your feelings with Lance because of what happened with Kassandra?"

Alessandro didn't immediately reply. The question was answered with a stiff nod instead. "Whenever I think about going for it- like, pursuing a romantic relationship with Lance, or at least telling him about my actual feelings- just the thought of her makes me panic. Because of her, I hurt the man that I've loved more than anything else. And no matter how badly I want to be with him, her ghost still haunts me. What she put me through- what she put us through- it's keeping me from moving forward with him."

"Because..?"

"Because I still feel like I don't deserve him." The truth was finally coming to light. Now that he'd started, it was going to be difficult to stop. "I love Lance so much. I do. And I want him so badly. But a really big part of me- a part I can't ignore- keeps yelling at me. There's a voice inside of me that keeps screaming that I don't deserve him after putting him through Hell. I feel like I'm not allowed to want things. I feel like I'm not allowed to have things that make me happy. It's just- everything is fucking me up in the head. I can't get a grip. And because of that, I can't be honest with Lance. I can't. I want to be. But I just. Fucking. Can't.

"I want him to love me too. But at the same time, I want to keep my distance. Because I don't ever want to hurt him again. And having all of these thoughts going backward and forward- having everything just be so jumbled and twisted and broken... I don't want him to be involved in that. My life's been a mess for a long time now- because she broke me. She led to me breaking everything. But his life is finally getting better. I don't want to ruin that for him. I don't want to ruin him again.

"All of this- it's so scary. I've finally given myself the opportunity to love again, and I'm too hung up on the past to do anything about it. I know it'd be so much easier to just tell Lance the truth about what happened that day. I know. I know and I just- it just won't happen."

"I can understand why," Dr. Hall cut in while putting down her clipboard on one of her side tables. "You've been holding that secret with you for years. You've been guarding both it and yourself because it was terrifying to admit how much pain those events caused. You've become so accustomed to burying, you don't know what to do when it's time to start digging those remains up. It's a scary feeling: having a really big thing happen to you and wanting to share it after years of locking it away. I get it. And I understand why you feel this way. It's... expected... considering what happened to you, Alessandro."

"...I just wish I knew what to do." Green eyes blinked rapidly to push away a suffocating desire to cry. "I wish I could just flip a switch and not have this bother me anymore. I wish I could just grow a pair and be honest about the things that are fucking with me. About the things that are making me happy too.

"Lance does know a little. He knows about my meds. He knows about my fight with mental illness. He even knows about how serious I am when it comes to people being taken advantage of. Outside of my family members, no one else knows that about me. And I know it's a start. But... I don't know. I can't help but wonder if it'd be easier for me to just end all of this."

Dr. Hall tensed as that statement could be taken multiple ways. "In what sense?"

"My feelings toward Lance. I feel like it'd be easier to just snuff them out. Cut them off before they get even bigger. He still doesn't know what he feels for me. That means he isn't in love with me the way I am him. It'd be simpler to just... push all of this away."

"...You know what that would do to you though."

"It'd break my heart. And you know what? I wouldn't even be mad about it. It's only fair because I did it to him first."

Alessandro wholeheartedly meant that. He wanted all of this to work out. But if he was honest and got hurt because of it—maybe that was his karma for causing that same tragic calamity over a decade prior.

"Alessandro, we both know those are your negative thoughts getting the better of you. That they're trying to push you to do something you'll regret. You know this."

"I do, but that doesn't just erase them."

"And it doesn't do anything for you to take those negative feelings at face value either."

He looked off to the side. No verbal rebuttal was given to the doctor's statement because her words were true.

Sighing, Alessandro took hold of his cup of water. Smaller, slower sips were taken out of it.

Dr. Hall continued the session. "You said you've been a little more open with Lance. How has that made you feel?"

"Honestly? It's relieving. He learns about my problems, and even though they shock him, he doesn't judge me. He knows there are things bothering me that I don't want to talk about. And he doesn't pressure me. He doesn't try to be nosy or push me in bad directions. If I tell him something, he just listens. And then that's that." Despite a steady flow of negativity coursing through him, Alessandro managed to feel a bit of warmth in the pit of his stomach. "It's kind of his thing. Lance will let me talk about my problems, and then we'll usually do something else to take my mind off of it. I know that he listens to me because he brings my issues up sometimes, but he only does it to show that he's heard me. That he remembers the things I tell him in confidence. 

"No one else has really questioned me about super personal stuff, so that can only mean that he also keeps my private issues to himself. It... makes me comfortable to know that I can trust him with those things."

"But the ordeal with Kassandra is bigger than all of those- I get it," Dr. Hall muttered to herself while nodding. "That's big for you though. Being open about those other things."

"I suppose."

"I mean that in a positive way, Alessandro. It tells me that in certain circumstances, you're okay with opening up. That's a good thing. And I know it's not easy. I know that telling Lance everything will take some time. But... don't let your fears be the reason you live an unhappy life. Don't let the pains of the past ruin a potentially bright future. Lance wants to be there for you. So let him. And let yourself breathe."

The thought of doing so made Alessandro uncomfortable.

Letting people in wasn't his strong suit. Letting his inner wounds air out wasn't something he was great at either. Years worth of pent up... everything... made him feel like both lungs had been filled with poison. It was practically impossible to do anything with confidence or comfort—in terms of romance, specifically. He hadn't done such a thing in a very long time.

But if it meant he could move forward with Lance...

Maybe it was time to try.