I'm a mess. A mess too big to clean up, and too obnoxious to ignore.

"It's a great thing you're doing for yourself," Harvey (a 52 year old, weird method, and I mean weird method, therapist, who Harry had hired to help me) says. He looks like my grandad with his peppered hair, and brown eyes. He has a kind face, and it's the only reason I haven't run out. That, and Harry waiting in the bedroom. "The first step to over coming a problem I--"

"Is admitting there is one. I know," I finish for him. I'm slightly proud when Harvey looks at me, blinking in surprise. "I'm going to be honest. I'm only doing this because my boyfriend wouldn't shut up about it. I don't need this."

Harvey isn't bothered by my feelings, and that's unnerving. "You're not the first who's said that." I don't know whether to laugh, or roll my eyes. "Your boyfriend, Harry, must love you quite a bit if he's taken it upon himself to hire me, Presley. It means he cares, but I cannot help you, if you don't care."

"It's not that I don't care, doc," I reply embarrassed. "It's that I've been having a hard couple of days, and I'm tired. Harry thinks I'm depressed but I'm not."

"You're only tired." He repeats.

"Exactly."

"And what do you think about life?" Careful doc, I'll get whiplash with big subject changes.

"It's not for everyone," I repeat immediately.

"I see," I think I've fallen into his trap. Fuck. "You just had a birthday, correct?" I tilt my head in confusion and nod. "Was it a happy birthday?"

No. "Yeah, I guess."

"Okay, and would you want to relive it over and over?"

"What? That doesn't even make sense."

"Just answer," he sighs. If I reply yes I'll be lying. If I say no, I'm screwed. Either way I'm fucked. Perfect.
"Why are you hesitating? It's a simple--"

"No--" I cut him off again.

"You're saying--"

"No. I don't ever want to repeat that day. It's one of the worst days I've ever had in my life."

"So why did you say it was happy birthday?"

I shrug not liking the turn in this conversation. "Because it was easier."

"Just like saying you don't need therapy is easier?"

"No--well, okay...yes-- I don't know," I give up. Harvey has skills and I'm a potato.

"It's okay to need help, Presley. Don't be embarrassed."

"Okay," even though I am embarrassed Harry thinks I need this, and the fact that Harvey was able to trick me so easily. "I went to see a therapist once, she was such a bitch," I still hate her. God, I wanted to run her over. "She said she was surprised I made it to nineteen, and that she wouldn't be shocked if I didn't make it to twenty, because my mind wasn't normal, and I was destined to be a suicide statistic."

Harvey shakes his head, taken back. "That's horrible, Presley."

"It is, but it's true. I was surprised I made it to my twentieth birthday."

"Your self hope is depressing," Harvey chuckles.

"It's the chemicals in my brain," that's the thing with me. It's all the chemicals in my head that fog me up. "You don't think I have much hope either, hm?"

Harvey studies my face, and shrugs after a few seconds. "Ask me again before I leave." I won't have too. I'll know right off the bat. "Harry tells me your dad is sick."

"He's going to be fine." I adamantly say.

"That I have no doubt. As for you, I'm not sure yet." Well. Shit. "He's your step dad?"

"He's my dad."

"Yes, but he's not your real--"

"He is," we can't be going in circles. The not productive and it's a waste of time. "I have one dad, Harvey."

"You may have one dad, but you have also have a father." I pull a face he laughs at. Therapy is a mess. "Don't give me that look, kid. Your dad is the man that raised you, and watched over you. He earned to be called 'dad'. Your father, is the man you came from. The title it's self is impersonal. He's known as what I like to call a 'joker'."

"A joker?"

"He thought it'd be amusing to bring a child into the world, trick them, trick the mother of said child that'd he'd be there. And when the joke became real, when it stopped being funny, he left. He's a joker." That hurt me a lot more than it should. Reopened the cut I thought had scarred over.

Guess not.

"Are you allowed to say that, or--"

"If you're real with me, I'm going to be real with you." Harvey says seriously with a hard edge. "So get ready because I've only just begun, and know I'm saying this because you need to hear it. Because i know everyone thinks you won't be able to handle it, but I know you can. You're a strong, little flower."
I'm more like a wilted flower, who's petals are already gone, and my stem is brown. It's gross. Morbid, really.

"Erm, okay." I agree because I know I don't have a choice. "I don't know how you'll be able to say anything, though. You don't know me."

"You're right," he answers unbothered. "I'm simply going off of what Harry has told me."

Oh, well, then. Fuck.

"I don't think I want to do this." I know I don't want to do this. I shuffle in my seat, mentally planning my vengeance against Harry for putting me through this. "This doesn't seem practical-- it's strange, actually. I met you an hour ago. I don't think that gives you the right to say anything about me."

"I completely agree," that's a first. "So then you shouldn't worry. I probably won't get anything right, right?" It's a trick. I can feel it. I'm terrible at tricks. I stay silent, arms crossed over my chest, as Harvey-- a man I've only known for sixty-fucking-minuets, says everything that he thinks he knows. Lovely.

"Go for it," I shrug. I should've said, stop, but I'm an idiot.

"Let's start with your fear of abandonment," my mouth opens, ready to argue. But Harvey holds his hand up and I know that means no. "Say whatever you will, and you can tell anyone that you don't care if they leave because you're used to it. But face it kid. Used to it or not, it still scares the living fuck out of you. I mean why wouldn't it? Your father left, there's one. Your brother died. Two. And didn't Harry leave for a year? That's three. Now your dad is sick, and we don't know if he's going get better. That'll make four. And let's say Harry decides he wants to call it quits? He'll make five, and hell, if he wants to take Louis' too, that'll be six. It scares you, Presley. Knowing how big of a possibility it is."

"Is this really therapy, or did Harry pay you without knowing you were a psychopath?"

Harvey smiles and I want to know how. "Harry, I'm glad you brought him up." Oh Fucking Hell . "Apart from your fear of abandonment, your dependency on Harry is ridiculous. I understand you're in love with him. I get it. But he left for a year, said nothing when he heard you were looking for him for said year, and when he first got here, he was engaged and a complete jerk to you. You became an alcoholic--"

"No--"

"Sweetheart, when you can't function without a drink, you're an alcoholic." Harvey snorts. "You messed up your insides, and I won't even start with your credit issues. All this happened because you made Harry your world, and when he left, he took your ability to depend on yourself, and function in the real world."

"That's not-- what're you trying to do?"

"Now, your dad," Harvey continues completely ignoring my question. Fuck you then. "He's sick and you're angry about it. That's a bit selfish, don't you think?"

"Woah wait--"

"That's why you're taking it so hard, admit it. You're mad he wouldn't let you come home with them."

"I don't--"

"Oh, please, Presley. It's all over your face right now. You're bitter, and you feel guilty, so you're taking it out on yourself. Admit it and I'll stop. Admit I'm right about everything and I'll stop." That would be the smart choice, I know. But it doesn't feel like I'm being healed. It feels like I'm actually being ripped into shreds all over again. I hadn't realized I was this big of a mess. I also didn't know I was this big of a push over. It kind of sucks. My pride is bruised, and Harvey has strange, and dangerous methods. "Are you going to admit it, or should I move on to your friend Ben, and his ways of control--"

"You're a horrible Doctor," I interrupt. "You're rude, and annoying, and. Fuck you! You think you know me? You fucking think you're right about everything? You're not!"

"Then why are you getting so offended? People only get upset about things when they realize it's true." Holly fuck, this man is irritating, and his ability to stay absolutely calm. However, he has a freaking point, and I loath it.

I calm myself as best as I can, and with a glare I reply, "You don't know anything."

"Seems like I know everything right now," he replies smug and sure. A few seconds later his face softens, and I think it's a tad late to be nice. "You have got to stop letting people walk all over you, and you really have to stop being so dependent on them. Even the people closes to us, can hurt us."

"I'm not dependent on anyone," I reply meekly, knowing it's a moot point already.

"The only one you're not dependent on is yourself, and that's the worse thing you can do." I want to know where Harry found this man, and I also want to know where he went to school. "Tell your dad he hurt your feelings when he wouldn't let you come home with him. Tell Harry he's a dick for leaving, and then when you tell him you love him because he came back, make sure he knows you forgave him but you haven't forgotten."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you didn't do it before."

Because I knew it would cause problems, and I can't handle those right now.

Harvey stands, and moves toward me. "You are not a door mat. You don't have 'welcome' written on your forehead. You're a bruised twenty yearold, who thinks she's forgiven people, but because she hasn't, is expecting the worse." I swallow, knowing Harvey has been right this whole time. I don't like it, but it's the truth. "Life may not be for everyone, but you're not everyone. I have hope for you, kid." With one last look at my face, he spins, and walks out. I'm sure it's because he knows he's gotten his point across. It maybe have been in a different way, but he did it.

Fuck did he do it.

****
"And they said I'm getting better. I feel a bit better," dad says over the phone. "Do you think you're up to come home for a few days? It'd be nice to see you, and Harry if he wants to come?"

"I'll ask him," Harry nods in question, and I motion for another minuet. "Dad? Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," he responds immediately.

Harry perks up, and moves closer. I think he knows I'm about to do something different. Maybe he can feel it in the air. Maybe he's that attuned to me.

"I'm scared, and I know you said you feel you're getting better, but I'm still scared. I'm terrified, actually."

"Baby," Harry coos, as he wraps his arm around me and kisses the side of my head.

I can hear my dad's intake of breath, "Oh, sweetheart, it's okay to be afraid. I'm scared too. It's okay."

"But it's not," I cry. "Dad, I'm mad, and you hurt my feelings."

"What? Presley, darling, what did I do?" Dad asks baffled.

"You didn't let me come home, and I know it's because you didn't want me to see you that way, but. What if that's the last way I'll get to see you? I'm a mess, and I'm scared." Harry likes to hold me when I get like this. I appreciate it. I like to burry myself in him, and I'm glad he lets me.

"I'm not doing any better, Presley. I have the same fear you do, and right now. Right now I literally feel like I'm only half of myself, and throughout this whole thing, the only thing I've been afraid of is leaving you and mom." I wipe my eyes. I've made my dad cry and I'm a horrible person. "I don't know what's going to happen, bear. I may not get better, and I--" dad's words get chocked up in his throat. "Okay, you and me are the same, Presley. But even if I don't feel better than okay, I'm going to believe that I will eventually. Even if I'm scared, because if someone up in the sky doesn't want to save me for me, I really hope they save me for you."

This is depressing.

"I think they will," I mumble. "Dad, I love you. I love you a fucking lot."

"Watch your language," dad laughs. "I love you. I don't love the way you worded it, but I love you so much."

Well, Harvey was right... So far.

****
"Was Harvey okay?"

"Harvey was... Harvey was right," Harvey was bright, and he was strange. A good strange. "You're a dick," I tell him. Harry's face falls, and his brow furrows. "I love you."

Harry kisses my cheek, still baffled, "I love you, but why am I dick?"

I shrug, hoping he'll get it as easy as Harvey explained it. "I love you because you came back, Hazard, and I forgive you, but I haven't forgotten. Not yet, but I think I will later on."

"That's more than I deserve," he says sadly.

"It's-- I think it's going to be okay. I really do."

Harry smiles softly at me. He's in his element right now. He's soft, and lazy, and normal. "Come here," he whispers. He pulls me onto his lap with his hand, and sighs. "You are beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Inside and out. I'm a stupid man, who almost lost his person, because he was wrong, and selfish. You can do so much better than me."

"You're as good as they come,Harry." Fuck, it was either Harry, or nothing. I knew that. My insides knew that, and I think everyone around me knew that.

"I'm going to marry you some day," he promises with such sincerity, I can't do anything but believe him.
I kiss him quick, and run my hand through his hair, "Someday."

Notes

I wonder if Donald Trump knows my mom hates him.