"You didn't tell me you were with my crush," Mira exclaimed. As she said those words, I remembered the encounter from a while ago.
"Have you seen him?" I asked.
"Yes," she said in a sulking voice. Was she mad at me?
"I was about to go home when Sir Dominic approached me. I didn't know he was with his friends either. I didn't have time to chat with you because I was cornered," I explained, trying to make her understand that it wasn't my intention not to tell her that her crush was there.
She sighed deeply on the other end of the line. Did she really call me just to say that I didn't inform her? I wanted to share my conversation with Sir Dominic, but Mira was preoccupied with her crush. That's why I kept everything to myself.
"But next time, you'll inform me," she said, still sulking.
"Yeah. Don't worry," I replied. But I doubted there would be a next time. I had already turned down his offer to be friends. I hoped he wouldn't bother me again.
"Okay. Bye," she said, then ended the call. I looked at my phone and shrugged. I wished it had been Damian and Mira who had the conversation, not me and Sir Dominic.
As I prepared my dinner, I watched my favorite videos on YouTube. Since I was hungry, I cooked sautéed water spinach with brown tofu. I didn't eat rice because my stomach was bloated. After cooking, I ate my dinner while still watching YouTube. After dinner, I took a bath before going to sleep.
***
Today was another day. Same routine, same struggle. Later, I would go to Dr. Keith's clinic for my session. He mentioned last time that I should have a session once a week to help cure my depression. I planned to go there after work, so I hoped no one would interrupt me. I wished Sir Dominic wouldn't bother me again.
When I arrived at the company, I was fifteen minutes early. As I reached our department floor, Mira was already there, doing her makeup.
"You're early," I remarked.
"What if Sir Damian arrives early?" she replied.
I rolled my eyes at her answer. Okay, now she was taking it seriously. She wanted to show off her beauty in front of him. Well, when it came to beauty, she definitely had it. Anyone would be lucky to date her. But because of her high standards, the men who tried to court her were often rejected. Sometimes, I wondered what it felt like to be everyone's crush. But then again, I wasn't even on her level. Oh well. I shouldn't think about that. I should focus on my illness.
Just like yesterday, work piled up and orders kept coming in. Mira and I didn't get a chance to talk. She was busy and focused on her tasks as well. When lunchtime came, she said she would eat at her desk and just buy food from the convenience store outside the company. I asked if she wanted me to come with her, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be gone long.
I didn't start eating yet, as I was waiting for her. Ten minutes later, she came back with a plastic bag in her hand.
"Why didn't you eat downstairs? Didn't you want to gossip with our colleagues?" I asked.
"I missed convenience store food," she answered as she took a bite of her ham and cheese bread. I then started eating my lunch as well. We ate while chatting about Sir Damian being her crush. Whenever the topic shifted to him, her mood instantly turned into that of a lovestruck teenager.
After finishing our meals, we went to the comfort room to retouch and brush our teeth. While we were there, we overheard some gossip from our officemates.
"Aren't they handsome? Ahh, how I wish I could date one of them," a woman squealed as she imagined the guy she was talking about.
"I heard his name is Lucca, but you know what? He's a bit dangerous," another woman whispered, though we could clearly hear her. They were standing just near us, reapplying their makeup.
"You know I like dangerous men."
"I prefer the demure and silent one—Damian." When the woman mentioned Sir Damian's name, I glanced at Mira's reflection in the mirror. She looked shocked. The women continued talking without caring that others could hear them.
They kept chatting while fixing their makeup. Mira, meanwhile, stayed quiet, clearly trying to process everything she had heard.
"You've gone quiet," I said when we returned to our desks.
"I have so many rivals," she said, pouting.
I almost laughed at her expression, but since she looked genuinely sad, I held it in.
"Aren't the men who courted you rivals too?" I asked, trying to give a real-life comparison.
"But I didn't entertain them."
"Have you ever seen Sir Damian entertaining those girls? Hey, you're not even with him yet, but you're already sulking," I said.
"I'm not sulking," she protested.
"You are," I insisted, then shrugged. This was the first time I had seen how deeply Mira was falling for her crush. Oh well, I hoped for her happiness.
I left the company exactly at 4 p.m. and immediately rode a bus so I wouldn't be late for my appointment. Dr. Keith knew I was coming today and told me he would be there until 6 p.m. When I arrived at his clinic, I greeted the secretary, and she gestured for me to enter since no one else was there.
"Hi, Seraphina," the doctor greeted me with a smile. I returned it.
"Let's sit on the sofa. It will make you more comfortable," he said, and I followed him.
"How was your day?" he asked while holding his records.
"Good," I replied.
"For real?" the doctor asked again, trying to assess whether it truly was.
"Actually… no," I changed my answer, deciding to be honest.
"Why?"
"I'm tired of doing things in the same routine. I'm not even happy with my job. I only have this job because I need it to survive."
The doctor listened intently, nodding as I spoke.
"Does your family know about how you feel?"
"I don't have a family now. The only family I had died three years ago."
My grandmother was my only family. I forgot about my parents the moment they left me without even considering my feelings. They were selfish, chasing their own happiness while the person they created was suffering. If they weren't happy together, why did they plan to have me? They were happy with their new families, while the one they left behind was ruined. I was ruined, and it left me with trauma.
"Tell me about it," the doctor gently encouraged me to open up. I didn't want to, but I knew he was there to help, not to judge.
"My parents built their own families while I was left alone with my grandmother. I didn't feel this pain when she was still alive. But when she died, all my trauma came back."
I tried to compose myself, forcing myself not to cry in front of him. For me, crying meant weakness. I only ever showed my weakness to my grandmother. No one else had ever truly seen me cry.
"Have you ever tried reaching out to your parents? Especially when they attended your grandmother's burial?"
"What for?" I replied bitterly. "They didn't even reach out to me. Do children always have to make the first move? They left me first without considering how I would feel. And during my grandmother's burial, my mother attended her own mother's funeral but didn't even try to talk to me or say sorry. She was there with her new family, and that hurt me a lot."
Who would want to witness that? My mother and her husband were there with their three children. She didn't even introduce me to him. I was treated like a distant relative. Those deep wounds still hadn't healed. The bitterness resurfaced every time I remembered that day. Even now, my parents had never reached out to ask if I was doing fine.
"I understand," the doctor said softly. "I can feel your emotions. If you want to cry, don't stop yourself. Let it out."
I tried to suppress it, but I don't know what power this doctor had. My tears began to fall. I showed him my weakness.
"I never cry in front of anyone," I said while wiping my overflowing tears. "Only my grandmother ever saw me cry."
"You carry trauma," he said gently. "You don't want people to see you as weak when you cry. But isn't crying also a way of showing strength?"
He had a point. He truly knew what he was doing. My tears didn't stop. All the traumatic memories resurfaced, making me cry even more.
"Try to open up to your friends," he suggested.
"I only have one friend—my officemate."
"You haven't experienced having other friends?"
"No."
I don't know how, but the way the doctor spoke made me want to reveal everything. To release all the tears I had been hiding. There was something in his words, in the way he looked at me, that made it easy to bare my heart.
"Try to make one," he said.
I had tried to make friends in high school and college, but I was betrayed twice. I thought they were my true friends because we were close and always together, but it turned out they treated me like an enemy. I never bothered to ask why. That was why making friends was no longer an option for me. They only added more wounds to my heart.
Opening up to Mira was hard because I was afraid she might betray me, too, just like the others.
"They betrayed me… twice," I said, then told him everything.
I wasn't good with people. They always saw me as the bad one, even when I did nothing wrong. Maybe it was my background. My status in life. Or my appearance. I didn't know. I avoided meddling in people's lives. I only talked when it was work-related or when necessary. Beyond that, I didn't want anything more.
I was already tired of dealing with pain. If they didn't want me, then they shouldn't bother me. I didn't need attention. I just didn't want to be hurt anymore.
The doctor gently patted my shoulder. I looked at him, tears still flowing down my cheeks. I didn't care if my face was a mess. I just wanted to cry today.
"I appreciate you opening up to me," the doctor said. "This is the first step you needed to take. Trauma often leads us to become aloof, to distance ourselves from people. We become afraid because we see others as someone who might hurt us in the long run. You don't want to make friends or open up to the only friend you have because of your past. I know it still hurts. The pain is still there. But isn't it too judgmental to judge the present because of the past? What if your only friend now is genuinely sincere toward you? What if she truly cares for you and has been waiting for you to open up?"
The doctor had a point. I knew Mira had been waiting for me to open up to her. I admired her courage and determination to stay by my side without forcing me to do anything I wasn't ready for. I could feel that she was the only person who truly understood me, yet I still couldn't let her glimpse the real me.
"That's the next step you should take," the doctor continued. "Open yourself up to her. Then, in our next session, tell me how it feels and how it goes."
I nodded.
He advised me to take vitamin C, eat healthier food, and sleep seven to nine hours a day. I told him that I wasn't able to sleep well because I often woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares. He prescribed me sleeping pills to help me rest. He didn't give me antidepressants because he believed that, through therapy, I could overcome my depression naturally.
I left the clinic at six in the evening. The session had lasted longer than I expected. As I waited at the bus stop, the rain suddenly poured heavily. I sighed and looked up at the sky. Why was it so hard to be happy? Why wasn't I given a chance to do the things I wanted?
My phone rang. It was Mira.
I remembered what the doctor had told me—to open up to the only friend I had. Mira had always been vocal about her feelings toward me. She was cheerful and fun to be with. Sometimes, I wanted to be like her, not because of her status in life, but because of her personality.
I answered the call.
"Hey, where are you?" she asked.
"Why are you asking?" I replied.
"I'm outside your house, but you're not here."
Why would she go to my house at this hour? Mira knew where I lived, but she rarely went there because I told her I wasn't used to having visitors. Still, she didn't mind and would show up whenever she wanted.
"Why are you there?" I asked.
"Shouldn't you answer me first about where you are?" she countered.
I sighed deeply. I wanted to try opening up to her, but I couldn't tell her about my depression yet. I would tell her when the time was right.
"I went to the mall," I lied.
"You didn't tell me. I should've gone with you."
"Aren't you busy waiting for your crush?" I teased. "Wait, the bus is here. I'll talk to you when I get home. Just stay there."
I ended the call and immediately boarded the bus. The bus stop was crowded, and people started rushing to get on first. Luckily, I managed to get inside.