"It's so strange on how vividly I can remember each year of our relationship. Maybe it was just the actions and adventures of each year that are known for, I don't know. It all just comes back so clearly to me."

Mrs. Forman is now sitting across from me on the opposite couch, no longer sitting at her desk, which surprises me because she has seemed very comfy in the chair during our sessions. Maybe it is the idea of closer eye contact to get the truth out of a person, I've always heard that works for more answers. I never have believed the idea though when my mother had told me that theory.

The session has just started. This is my second one, and I was quite hoping for it to be my last, but my mother had told me that two sessions is not enough to get over any fears or old feelings. I could have slapped her this morning when she said that to me, but I kept my arms invisibly restrained and walked out of the house, not uttering a single word to her after the situation.

"I guess we will be talking about every year for each session," Mrs. Forman vocalizes, putting her leg over the other. "It seems that we do that every time, and this is only the second session."

"That would only be a couple more, considering that we were together for six years," my voice excitedly seems slightly louder than usual, and I know I am very happy to get out of this hell as soon as I can. It's not that Mrs. Forman is a terrible shrink, I am not a fan of talking about my past, and only relationship that I ever had.

"I understand that you are excited, Mrs. Young, but we will have to see," Mrs. Forman checks her watch and her eyes widen in realization. "We must get started, time is running out, sadly. Now, what was the highlight of your second year with Harry?"

My mind ponders in thought as my lips form a frown. There was many memories for the second year of our relationship, from us graduating high school and thinking about if we had a future together, or the idea that Harry went on a small tour with his band. He had left me for a couple months, and that was a slight break for us, considering that we had both got into a previous fight right before he got into that damn car and left me.

"I think it would be when Harry thought, well, he told me that he was feeling something close to love for me. It was strange on how he had worded it, but from what I understood, Harry knew he was on his way to love with me," my eyebrows push together in confusion and frustration as I try to understand what the hell I just said. But, it doesn't seem to bother Mrs. Forman as she opens her mouth to speak. The look on her face is understanding.

"Please do tell," she puts her notebook to the side and now has her eyes on mine.

"We had just got done from one of Harry's soccer games and he was driving me home," I start, running a hand through my frizzy blonde hair.

The idea of being at a soccer game when it is almost one hundred degrees outside as well as the bugs that had been driving me crazy did not sound like it was worth it to go and watch Harry. My body and especially my mind are not big fans of the summer heat, but I do quite enjoy the winter season because of the coldness as well as the snow that falls in the small town of Barrowsville in Michigan. But, in the end, I did go to support Harry because once, the soccer fields used to be my whole life. Sadly, I got tired of the sport and focused on my studies.

I sat on the sidelines of the field, right near the bleachers and almost around completely nobody. People were at the soccer game, yes, cheering on their sons, friend, or however they had relations to them, but I preferred to stay away from the screaming and yelling. At the games, the amount of anger could get extremely out of hand.

Harry had scored and whatnot, of course, making the school team win. That's how Harry is, one of the jocks and the big player of each game. It's sad to say that his ego makes the best of him as well as all the girls that hounded him after the game when his team meeting had ended. My physical body has stayed on the opposite side of the field from Harry, either trying not to creepily watch the girls mindlessly flirt with him or acting as if I was on my phone. But, when my head lifted up to look back at Harry, his eyes had already caught mine and his body flashed over to mine from the other side of the field very quickly.

And here we are in his car, Harry driving me home.

"I'm sorry about that," he immediately says after a couple minutes of deafening silence in his car and my eyes watching the blur pass by. "They had just started talking to me and the boys, and I did not want to be rude, but I really did want to-"

"It's fine, Harry," I mutter, my head turning to lay on the cool window.

I do not want to speak about the girls, whatsoever. Although I felt a pang of jealousy when Harry smiled at the girls, he has friends of the opposite sex, and I should not try to be clingy. There's no need for clingy, but I do not have a problem with it. And I am happy that is not how Harry and I's relationship is, thankfully, or problems would already be made, knowing me.

"No, it's not," Harry ran a hand through his now dry hair from the sweat, the vibrancy of his green eyes being shown off by the shadow of the moon. "I know you were wondering what the hell was happening, and believe me, if I were in your position, I would have probably done something more than just sit there."

His confession brings a smile to my face, but I quickly hide it by letting my hair cast around me. My head is now off the window and my eyes are on my lap. Maybe he is just trying to butter me up, or that is just Harry. But, I know that those college girls did send something spiraling deep down in my stomach, and I chose to ignore it.

"Hello? Earth to the beautiful girl named Brooklyn?"

"Yes, Harry," I roll my eyes at his words, my hand coming up to rake through the tangled blonde strands of my hair. The strong wind from the soccer game had fucked up my hair, but thankfully, there was a slight strong breeze from the terrible heat.

"You kind of zoned out," a cheesy grin makes its way across his sweat-dried face. "Andddd, we are here."

My head turns to look outside, and as my body leans forward to see over Harry, my parent's house comes into view. I have been staying there lately, due to something happening with the renovations beside my apartment and also in, so I have been stuck with them. And although they disagree with many of my decisions, such as dating Harry, I'm really thankful that they have let me live with them while everything is trying to get sorted.

"I would kiss you, but your dad is a kind of glaring at me through your window," Harry mutters and leans his body back into his seat so I can see his words to be true.

My father is seen to be standing behind my window, where my room used to be, and his arms are crossed. A frown is taken upon his face and I notice a slight twitch in his eyes every few seconds. His eyebrows seem to both be cocked up as if in an intimidation manner to Harry. The sight is utterly funny, but to Harry, it is very menacing.

Laughing, I pull my hand from my lap to place it on the car handle. "Don't be frightened. Dad is that way, you've seen it before," and before I can open the car door, a large hand grabs mine, making me retract myself from getting out of the car.

"Brooklyn, I'm sorry to say this at such a terrible time, but I've been wanting to tell you. It's crazy on how it is for this to happen," Harry runs a hand through his curls once again and lays his hands on his jersey shorts.

"H, what are you going on about?" I chuckle at how frazzled he looks, my eyebrows pulling into a look of confusion.

Why is he so nervous? Harry never acts this uneasy around me unless his parents are coming over for a visit or he has an unprepared for test. His green irises are slightly darker than usual, making me believe that his ideas might be slightly dark as well. Large hands are fidgeting every few seconds, and I know he has something on his mind that needs to be blurted out, one way or another.

This time, he chuckles in response, looking out the window to notice my dad is still standing there. "There's this feeling," he starts off, making me a nervous wreck. "this crazy feeling and I have been trying to figure out what the hell it is for the past few weeks."

"Harry, please don't-"

"This feeling has left me to not sleep for two days straight," he interrupts me. "And even though it is around midnight and your father is probably going to yell at you while I have to go in there and slightly yell over his voice to tell him it was all my fault but it was so worth it, I think there is this feeling inside me that is telling me it is on its way to love."

"What was your reply after Harry had admitted that?" Mrs. Forman interrupts my daydream, and my vision clears more as I watch her retrieve that damn notebook.

"At first, I honestly was so speechless, because really, what the hell are you going to say when your boyfriend tells you that he thinks some feeling is close to love?" My eyebrows furrow in confusion as to thinking of what I had previously said. "He asked me if I was okay after not replying back to what I said, but I did tell him that I was okay and overwhelmed with his words."

"And then, what did you say?"

"I told Harry that the time will come when he will knows what he feels, but after those words, I left him with a kiss and to think about it all."

"What did you think, Mrs. Young?" I watch as Mrs. Forman asks the question while writing down unknown things in her notebook, the pen gliding along the paper fairly quick.

"I was falling too deep, just not as much as Harry."