LIKE LOVE OBSESSION

Cold air hit my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my black hoodie tighter, tugging the sleeves down to cover my fingers. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to find some comfort. The scent of lavender filled the air—soothing, calming. But no amount of white walls or sweet fragrances could reach the darkness inside me.

The room around me was sterile, almost painfully bright. Everything was white—so white, it felt like the walls were trying to cleanse me of something they could never touch. The only sound was the ticking of the clock, each tick louder than the last, a reminder of time slipping away, indifferent to my pain.I was still stuck here.I lifted my gaze from my lap, and there he was—Dr. Skyrim. His eyes met mine, deep and warm, like dark coffee, drawing me in. His long, black hair framed his face like a dark halo, giving him an almost otherworldly presence. In his late twenties, he looked serene, calm, a stark contrast to the storm inside me. A faint blush tinged his cheeks, the only sign of vulnerability.He was dressed simply, a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and yet he carried himself with an ease that was both comforting and unsettling. The smile he gave me was gentle, the kind that made you feel at ease, like you were seen without judgment.I felt my heart skip a beat, my pulse quickening as I spoke. "Do I have to talk more about him?" My voice wavered, and a tear slipped down my cheek. It was supposed to help. All the advice he gave me, all the guidance. But none of it worked. I used to think he cared.The room seemed to fall silent after my words, the ticking clock suddenly deafening. Dr. Skyrim's expression softened. He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine."You don't have to talk about anything you're not ready to," he said, his voice smooth, almost melodic. It had a way of soothing my restless mind, but only for a moment.I glanced at the nameplate on the table behind him. "Dr. Skyrim." He wasn't my therapist, not really. He was my mom's. She worked as a nurse at the hospital where he came by once or twice a week. I never asked for therapy. I didn't think I needed it. But my mom suggested it after she thought that i was under academic pressure. She was worried about me, and now here I was, stuck in this white room, with a therapist who wasn't even really mine.But he was the reason I needed therapy in the first place. He was the reason everything fell apart.I'd been fine before him. But then he came into my life, and like a storm, he ripped through everything I had. My mind felt shattered, and nothing seemed right anymore.His voice broke through my spiraling thoughts."Dealing with one-sided love can be incredibly challenging—"I cut him off before he could finish."No, you don't get it," I said, my voice trembling. "Loving someone who doesn't love you back is one thing. But thinking someone loves you, only to find out they never did? That's a whole different kind of pain. It's like you're floating along, everything seems perfect, and then—bam!—it all comes crashing down. It hurts so damn much." My throat was tight, every word coming out like a struggle. My whole body trembled."You can't get it until you go through it yourself."I used to roll my eyes at people who got stuck in this kind of heartbreak. I thought it was simple: if they don't treat you right, just leave. But now? I get it. The way they reel you in with promises, the way they make you believe. It's not that easy. It hurts. It really, really hurts.I grabbed the glass of water Dr. Skyrim had left for me, trying to steady my shaking hands. I swallowed a few gulps, then set the glass down, trying to gather myself.His eyes never wavered. He was patient, understanding—like he had all the time in the world for me."You're overthinking," he said softly. "Your mind is racing with what-ifs and regrets. You're replaying everything, imagining different scenarios. But listen, you can't keep blaming yourself for someone else's inability to love you the way you deserve." He paused, his voice warm with reassurance. "You'll get through this. I know you will. You've done it before. You always find a way."His words wrapped around me like a blanket, warm and comforting, but I wasn't sure I believed him. How could I, when the pain felt endless?"It's okay to feel this way, Grey," he continued, his voice steady. "It's okay to be angry, sad, confused. What matters is how you handle those feelings. You can't avoid the pain. You have to understand it, work through it. And you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you. Always."The room fell silent again, but this time, the silence didn't feel as oppressive. The soft hum of the heater, the ticking of the clock—somehow, they didn't seem so loud anymore.I didn't have the strength to speak again, so I just nodded.Dr. Skyrim was right about one thing. The pain wasn't going away anytime soon. But maybe, just maybe, I could learn how to live with it.