I turned back to see who it was, only to be disappointed by the sight of a complete stranger. I thought to myself, "Ah, well, that's what I feared most in my life. I recognized a smell in a crowd of strangers, and it wasn't him." Kelly looked right into my eyes, held my right hand, and said, "Babe, I really think you should go immediately."
I said, "But I reacted this way because I know it is his perfume," while I was looking around, completely unsettled and awkward. She held my hands more firmly with reassurance and continued, "It's exactly why we will visit her!"
I sighed deeply, and she continued, "No ifs and buts here."
We left the cafeteria and went to our respective classes to finish for the afternoon. Today's classes felt longer than usual. My sociology teacher gave us notes that seemed never-ending. I have this habit of finishing all my homework in class itself. It's an old habit from school, just so that I don't have to sit and go through tons of material again at home. This way, I can give more time to my major, which is painting.
After class, I reunited with Kelly, and we went straight to Mrs. Tyagi. To introduce her, she is our college therapist. That's all I know about her. As far as I have heard, she is an impeccable therapist. She also teaches psychology in our college.
There is a lot of stigma regarding therapy in society, and so therapy was never considered a viable option for anyone. At least not in my household, where pain is acknowledged only by its physical aspect. All I thought to myself was, "Have I gone insane? No, I am perfectly fine and normal. Then why do I need a therapist?"
What I wasn't realizing was that maybe she might understand why and how I am having these dreams. I just wanted to get rid of them at this point. I felt so lost and confused. Nevertheless, what harm could there be in visiting a therapist?
The walk to Mrs. Tyagi's office felt like an eternity. Every step was filled with doubt and anxiety. I glanced at Kelly, who gave me a reassuring smile. "Trust me," she said softly. I nodded, trying to convince myself that this was the right thing to do.
Finally, we reached her door. Taking a deep breath, I knocked. The door opened, and there she was, with a warm smile that somehow started to melt away my fears.
Her room was calming. The walls were painted in soft shades of caramel and lime green. The atmosphere was unique, imbued with a sense of peace that soothed the constant cacophony in my mind. It was effortless to meld into such an environment. Scented candles emitted a fruity peach fragrance, while light yellow curtains diffused the sunlight, casting a gentle glow across the room. Mrs. Tyagi sat comfortably on her couch, exuding a motherly vibe.
I took a seat in front of her. She looked up after a while, emerging from the depths of her books, and asked me in a soft tone, "Hey, darling, how are your dreams now?"
Wait, what? How did this woman, whom I had never spoken to, know about my dreams? Was she some kind of sorceress or witch? I was utterly shocked, my eyes widening as I stared at her.
She gazed at me kindly and said, "Girl, sorry to read your soul without your permission."
I interrupted, eager to introduce myself. "Hello, Mrs. Tyagi, I am Ayla Asif, I am an arts…"
As I spoke, I could feel her penetrating gaze, as if she was looking deep into my soul. When our eyes met, I felt her energy within me, something entirely new and strange. "Isn't she just our therapist?" I thought to myself.
She asked me about my most recent dream and the events leading up to it. Her lack of surprise gave me a sense of relief, indicating that she had likely encountered many people like me in her office. I wasn't abnormal or a freak for dreaming about a past soulmate.
She looked at me intently and said, "Listen to me very carefully. There are three rules in my office that you need to follow no matter what:
You mustn't lie to your therapist, even if the truth is harsh. You mustn't keep anything from me that bothers you, even if it is the smallest thing. You have to trust me completely."
Her words were clear and distinct. She took out her notepad and began to scribble notes. The sound of the pencil scratching the paper was oddly comforting. Then she asked me a question.
"Tell me one thing, how did the end of your past relationship make you feel?"
I was momentarily dumbstruck.
"Well, it was my past, so it doesn't really matter. Mostly because I am not in touch with my ex-partner."
"Were you satisfied with it, or did it leave you with some unanswered questions or a sense of incompleteness?"
"It did, but with time I have stopped searching for answers to those baseless questions."
She peered at me over her rectangular glasses. "Did you feel pain?"
My mind flew back in time
Where I could see myself, lying on the bathroom floor
Crying irresistibly, muffling and forcing my hand on my mouth as much so that my voices don't reach to my family outside.
My hands and fingers trembling terribly and curled myself while I let my soul out through those tears on the floor. I could feel every beat on my chest, with a sharp pain like a stab with every beat making the beat more precise.
I stood there, watching myself crying on the floor, leaned down to see myself at such a broken state.
. I hesitated, feeling a lump in my throat. "Yes," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I did feel pain. A lot of it."
Mrs. Tyagi nodded, as if she had expected my response. "It's important to acknowledge our pain, Ayla. It's the first step towards healing. Now, let's explore these dreams of yours more deeply."
She said," How often do you get these dreams, and what do you end up feeling after each."
"Well, I don't really remember dreams, but these dreams are repetitive. They occur once or even sometimes twice a month, usually when I am at a place not thinking or even remembering him. When I wake up, I remember the dream fresh, like it actually happened to me. Even in instances where I physically get hurt in my dream, I would feel a pain in that same spot waking up the next morning."
"How intense are those dreams?"
"Intense enough to leave me thinking about him for some time. But then I would get back to my busy life shortly after that."
"Then what do you think is concerning you?"
"The fact that with each dream, the intensity of these dreams increase"
She gave me a look in the midst of her scribbling down all her thoughts.
After a while, she started to speak
"There is this old concept in the human chemistry, called soul ties. Do you know anything about it?
"No, I certainly don't"
"Well it is a deep emotional connection formed with someone, often through intimacy. It impacts your feelings and thoughts as well as you well-being significantly. It is when one's soul denies to break a bond it has made with another, while them not being physically existing."
"Will this tie be there in my life forever?"
"Depends,", She positioned her glasses, while taking a sip of water from the glass beside her. She continues,
"I have seen people at the age of 60 holding on to their high school sweet hearts, their pictures, their souvenirs, their fragnances for years. It depends on how deep your soul was connected to the other soul, mainly from your side."
"I see, it's a soul issue"
"It is indeed a soul issue. Do you still hope?"
"Hope of what precisely?"
"Hope of presence? His love?"
It's maddening how I hadn't had such a conversation with anyone. Somehow opening up to her made sense. It is more like she made me realise things I was running far away from.
Though my mind knew we would never be together, we just cannot be together. It was impossible for us to even be in the same frame together. Well for the heart, I stopped listening to it. My hearts crave for his love, my soul craves for his soul, my hand craves for his hand, those finger gaps in my hand graves to get filled with his fingers.
All this while, I lied to every soul on this world including myself. I just felt wrong to lie here.
" A part of me, yes, it does love him. But trust me, that doesn't mean that I be thinking about him all the time. My mind does not think of him. I am always preoccupied with all the assignments, friends….."
"It does, right?"
"Yes!"
"That's all I wanted to hear"
"How do I break this tie?"
"Do you really want to break it? It will mean that you will have to let go of this particular person what we are talking of"
" It's necessary. I cannot hold on to a person I can never have. I want to be practical. Emotions has never lead me to a good path in life."
"Fine, I will help you break this tie. It's a precarious process, mind you that. You have to be honest to me as well as yourself here, most importantly, trust me. Are you ready for it?"
I chuckled and continued," Well not that I have another choice. It is certain that all this is affecting my current life."
She clenched her fingers together and gave me a soft smile. Her countenance radiated serenity, with a gentle smile that seemed to dissolve all worries. Her eyes, warm and compassionate, reflected a deep inner calm, and her entire demeanor exuded a soothing tranquility that instantly put me at ease. I was relieved and was ready to pour all my trust on her.