Friday, February 24th

194.)

"How's your anxiety been?" Stephanie asked. She obviously noticed my fingers, which were covered in bandages.

"The mindfulness stuff isn't working," I sighed. "I keep trying to pay attention, but being distracted is a lot easier. And... I dunno. I feel like easy is a good thing right now."

"Problems with Blossom?" Stephanie guessed.

"No, but... we aren't really talking much right now. Last weekend everything was great, and then my aunt..." I shook my head. I didn't want to get into it. "Can we skip next week's appointment?"

"Uhh... that's quite the non sequitur."

"I just don't want to be here," I said, answering a question she didn't ask.

"Why not?" Stephanie asked.

"I just don't."

Things were quiet for a moment. A long moment. Stephanie didn't say anything, and I thought about how people say part of therapy is learning to sit with silence or something. I felt like I was hiding underground and she was trying to smoke me out. But Stephanie wasn't trying to do anything in particular. She just wanted to think for a moment. A long moment.

"I think you want to tell me what's up," Stephanie said. "Because it's bothering you a lot, and because you know I can help. Or, if I can't, talking about it with me might. And obviously you're scared, like talking about it will go badly. But you thought talking to me about ageplay was going to end badly, and it didn't. And you thought talking to me about Blossom was going to end badly, and it didn't. So maybe this won't end badly either."

Stephanie sat back in her chair and played with her hair.

"But ultimately," she said, "it's your decision. And I'll support you no matter what."

Things were quiet for another long moment. This time, I think she was trying to smoke me out, but it didn't feel so bad. It didn't make me mad at her. It felt like she was being patient and kind. She was probably being patient and kind. Finally, I sunk down into the sofa and looked at my feet.

"I know this is stupid," I mumbled, "but next Friday is my birthday. And I'll be twenty-one."

Stephanie nodded.

"It just... really upsets me. Because I don't want to be twenty-one. I didn't want to be eighteen either. And this is the last real milestone of being a kid, you know? After this, I'm just... an adult. Through and through."

"And that upsets you, because of your Little stuff?" Stephanie guessed.

I nodded.

"Well, that makes perfect sense. And I see why you might not want to talk about it, because it's not something I can help with after all. But I hope just talking can help in other ways."

"Yeah," I sulked.

"Do you usually feel this way about your birthdays? You mentioned turning eighteen?"

"Yes and no," I said. "I didn't care until I turned eighteen, and then I cared a lot. Nineteen and twenty weren't a big deal, so I figured this year wouldn't be a big deal either. But all week, I've just been so... ugh."

"This one has more meaning," Stephanie suggested.

"It does! It doesn't, but it does. And I'm so angry that it does, because this is so stupid! I know I can't control time. I know I get older every day. I know that my birthday doesn't actually change anything, and it didn't really change anything when I turned eighteen. But, fuck. I'm just... really not looking forward to it."

"And Blossom?" Stephanie asked. "Does she know?"

"Nobody knows. Lin doesn't even know." I knew Lin's birthday, but I never got her gifts or anything. I think I was afraid that if I did, she'd want to know mine.

"You said this was next Friday," Stephanie said. "Aren't you usually with Blossom on Fridays?"

"Yes. And that's part of the problem. Because I don't want to be a jerk to her, and I've been acting like a jerk for days."

"How so?"

"I dunno," I sighed. "Not texting her back. Short replies. Not wanting to hang out or get dinner or anything. Which isn't exactly weird, but it's weird that I don't want to. I just don't want to see her at all, and the drive up here was awkward, and two days at her beach house is going to be awkward. Canceling next weekend without giving a reason is going to be awkward. Or, I can lie to her. But I don't want to, because that's shitty."

"Why not tell her?" Stephanie asked. "I'm sure she'd understand."

"I don't want her to know!"

"Because...?"

"Because! I dunno! Because... I don't want her to think I'm older. I want her to keep seeing me as a twenty year old..."

"That makes sense," Stephanie nodded. "But isn't hiding this stuff from her and dodging her texts getting close to breaking that promise you made her? At the start of your relationship?"

I promised not to write myself out of anything before talking to her. I promised not to be a martyr. I didn't think it was exactly the same as what I was doing now, but Stephanie was right. I was getting close.

"I don't want her to know," I said again, because I didn't have any other good arguments.

"She's going to find out sooner or later," Stephanie said in her calming voice. The voice she used when I was close to crying. And she was right to, because I was close to crying.

"I know..."

"At the very least, when we wrap back around to October, she's going to know you got a year older."

"I know..."

"And nothing is going to change, even if she knows. You're not getting a year older than her. You are both planets, orbiting the sun at the same rate. From her perspective, you aren't moving at all. And I think you know that too, because from your perspective she isn't moving either. Is she?"

I shook my head. She wasn't moving. She was twenty-one, but I didn't even know when she'd turned twenty-one, or when she would turn twenty-two. All I knew was that she was older than me, but not a whole year older than me, and she would never be anything different. No matter how many times we went around the sun, she would always be in the same place from my point of view.

Was that how she saw me?

"I still don't want her to know," I sighed, even though Stephanie and I both knew I was going to tell her.

"I know," Stephanie said, full of empathy. But time was one problem therapy couldn't solve.