Chapter 30
Carla walked into the counseling center, the familiar scent of detergent and polished floors mingling in the air. As she pushed through the glass door, the weight of her decision to come today settled heavily on her shoulders. She had canceled her last two sessions, choosing, instead, to be by Lisa’s side during her recovery. Those weeks had been a whirlwind of unprocessed emotions, and now they loomed over her like dark clouds, threatening to rain down at any moment.
Taking a deep breath, Carla made her way to the waiting room, her heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and determination. She plopped down into one of the plastic chairs, her fingers instinctively fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her gaze fixed on the floor beneath her. The sterile waiting area felt suffocating in its silence, and she could almost feel the weight of her thoughts pressing down around her. The last time she had felt this nervous before a session was during her very first visit, a time when Lisa had been there to ground her, providing a sense of safety that now felt out of reach. It dawned on her how intertwined her life had become with Lisa’s; she couldn’t recall the last time she faced a challenge without her girlfriend by her side. That realisation both comforted and terrified her, and she couldn’t help but reflect on the struggles she had once faced alone—times when alcohol had seemed like the only escape.
As her anxious thoughts spiraled, the door to the waiting room swung open, and Helen stepped in. There was something comforting about Helen, who had listened to Carla pour her heart out week after week. Carla admired the strong, no-nonsense attitude Helen held, while also appreciating her kindness and ability to dig deeper into the layers of Carla’s struggles. Helen had a knack for calling her out gently, illuminating her mistakes and offering insights that helped shape Carla’s understanding of herself. This bond they had developed made Carla feel a bit more at ease, but it still took a leap of faith to let down her guard.
As soon as their eyes met, a spark of recognition flickered between them, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had shared. Carla felt a flicker of hope ignite inside her. She was nervous, yes, but also ready to finally confront the tumult of emotions she had kept bottled up for so long. Today was the day she would take that plunge, to discuss the anxiety that clung to her as tightly as her grip on her shirt. With a deep breath, Carla steeled herself, preparing to embrace the vulnerability that had always felt just out of reach.
As Carla settled into the chair across from Helen, her heart raced. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my anxiety,” she began hesitantly. “It’s like this constant weight in my chest, and it’s all centered around Lisa. I thought it was out of love at first, you know? But... it feels different. I’ve never felt this anxious about leaving someone's side before.” The words tumbled out, her vulnerability laid bare.
Helen listened intently, her gaze steady and compassionate. “You’ve brought up Liam in our past conversations,” she prompted gently, recalling the emotional depths of their discussions. “You told me how deeply you loved him, and how his passing shattered you. Do you think your anxieties about Lisa could be tied to that loss?”
Carla felt a lump form in her throat as she nodded slowly. “It could be,” she admitted, “but I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. Not even with Peter, who was an alcoholic. I was never this terrified every day of losing him.” Her words carried the weight of the past, a painful reminder of a love marred by tragedy.
Helen tilted her head slightly, gauging Carla’s expression. “Carla, have you considered that nobody has ever come close to the love you had for Liam until now—until Lisa?”
The air in the room seemed to shift as Carla contemplated Helen’s words. It was true. While she had experienced love before, the connection with Lisa was indescribable. It felt profound, all-consuming, and terrifyingly real. She fought against the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over. “But what if I lose her?” Carla's voice trembled. “What if I can’t handle it again? I think about it all the time—the ‘what ifs’ paralyse me.”
“Losing Liam affected you in ways that run deep,” Helen remarked thoughtfully. “Those experiences don’t just vanish when you fall in love again. They shape how you navigate new relationships, especially the strong ones. It’s understandable that the thought of losing someone you care for so deeply would trigger that fear.”
Carla ran her fingers through her hair, frustration blending with sadness. “I don’t want my past to ruin my present,” she muttered. “But I don’t know how to separate the two.”
“Opening up about your feelings is the first step,” Helen encouraged. “It’s natural to feel anxious; it’s a part of being human. But you can use that anxiety as a guide. Maybe it can lead you to understand the strength of your love for Lisa and how it differs from your past relationships.”
Carla took a deep breath, the tension in her chest lightening slightly. “I want to believe that,” she said quietly. “With Lisa, it feels like there's something worth protecting, something worth fighting for. But the fear of losing it just... grips me.”
“Then let’s work on that together,” Helen offered, her voice steady and reassuring. “We can find ways to help you embrace that love without the fear overwhelming you. Facing your past doesn’t mean repeating it; it means learning from it and allowing yourself to be vulnerable in new ways.”
Carla nodded again, absorbing Helen’s words. Perhaps this session could usher in a new chapter of healing, one where anxiety didn’t dictate the terms of her love. She would fight for Lisa—not just for the relationship, but for herself, too. After all, loving fiercely also meant being brave enough to face her fears head-on.