therapy - for will
I have never been the kind of guy to want to talk about my problems. It was to my detriment, I guessed, seeing how I had shuffled off this mortal coil the first time around but since showing up on the island and seeing Shari again, I thought I was fixed. My arm seemed to be better and everything seemed to be going for me -- on the surface, anyway.
I couldn't shake that feeling that I just wasn't good enough. Good enough for what, I wasn't sure, but Shari was a big part of it. While I had remained relatively the same guy I'd been at the time of my death, Shari had changed and grown in a way that made her barely recognizable to me anymore. She wasn't selfish anymore, or vapid, or any of the things that she might have been before her own death. She had a genuine will to help others and to make something of herself and when standing next to that, Peter Nichols was woefully underwhelming.
The guy sitting at the desk when I got to the psychology office was one I recognized from a night at The Winchester and while I didn't think you were supposed to drink with your therapist, exactly, I was a lot more comfortable talking to someone with a friendly face even if I couldn't exactly call him a friend.
"Uh, it was Will, right? Night at The Winchester? I was wondering if you'd know who to ask about therapy."
There, I'd said it. The first step to solving a problem was admitting to it, right?
I couldn't shake that feeling that I just wasn't good enough. Good enough for what, I wasn't sure, but Shari was a big part of it. While I had remained relatively the same guy I'd been at the time of my death, Shari had changed and grown in a way that made her barely recognizable to me anymore. She wasn't selfish anymore, or vapid, or any of the things that she might have been before her own death. She had a genuine will to help others and to make something of herself and when standing next to that, Peter Nichols was woefully underwhelming.
The guy sitting at the desk when I got to the psychology office was one I recognized from a night at The Winchester and while I didn't think you were supposed to drink with your therapist, exactly, I was a lot more comfortable talking to someone with a friendly face even if I couldn't exactly call him a friend.
"Uh, it was Will, right? Night at The Winchester? I was wondering if you'd know who to ask about therapy."
There, I'd said it. The first step to solving a problem was admitting to it, right?