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"But you did. You lied to me. I let you see all the parts of me that weren't pretty, but you knew all along. And when I finally opened up to you, you already knew." Lowering my head into my hands, I cry. I cry hard. "You let me give everything to you. You had to have known that you couldn't hold on to that secret forever. I would've eventually found out, and you still let me fall for you like I did. I feel so stupid and used, like you just felt sorry for me or pitied me."

"I never pitied you, babe. I have only ever loved you. I just didn't want to hurt you."

He reaches out to hold me, but I push him back and stand up from the couch.

"I can't do this. You can't say those things to me."

Standing up and taking a step toward me, he says, "I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up so bad. I know all you wanted was someone you could trust. I wanted to be that for you, and I fucked it all up. But, I didn't know what to say; I was scared. You'll never know how fucking sorry I am."

"I knew better. I knew I shouldn't have let you in like I did. But, I can't see you anymore. You have to stop calling and texting. I need you to just not exist for me because I can't do this. It hurts more than I thought anything possibly could."

"Candace, please."

"Just go."

He doesn't move. He just stands there. A part of me never wants him to move, but I know he needs to. I can hardly bear to see the pain in his eyes and the tears running down his cheeks.

"Please, you have to go. I can't do this," I plead with him.

Looking at me through his tears, he chokes out, "You have to know how much I love you."

"Please, Ryan," I say with closed eyes. I just need him to go because I can't take the excruciating pain any more. My eyes stay closed until I hear the click of the door as it closes behind him. I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop myself from watching him get into his jeep. I feel like I need to scream for him to come back, but I don't. I just let him drive away.

My heart hurts so bad, I swear it feels like I'm dying. I can't take this anymore. I know I can't live like this. I can't do this on my own. I've tried so hard. But I just can't do it anymore.

It's been just over a week since Ryan walked out of my house, and I finally hit my bottom. I finally had to surrender, and I knew I had to stop clinging onto people. I had to stop running to Jase. He would never be able to save me. And I no longer had Ryan to cling to. But even if I did, he wouldn't be able to save me either. I knew it was up to me to pull myself together and get help because all I wanted to do was fade away.

The first time I went to see Dr. Christman was the day after I saw Ryan. We decided that I would see her twice a week. During our first session, I basically told her everything that had happened since August: Jack, Kimber, my parents, Ryan. I told her about how I grew up and why I didn't seek therapy earlier this year when everything was falling apart. I really like Dr. Christman. She's helping me to see that what Jack did wasn't my fault. I still harbor guilt about it, but not as much as I used to. She's helping me learn how to tolerate my emotions and not avoid everything that I consider my triggers, like my fear of crowds or my thoughts of Jack.

Today is our fourth session. When I walk into her office and sit in my usual seat on the couch. "Hello, Candace. How are you feeling since we met earlier this week?"

"Okay, I guess."

"And what does that mean? What's 'okay'?"

"I've been trying to eat better, which I think is good. But, I haven't been sleeping well, so I've been really tired."

"What do you think is keeping you up?"

"It used to be Jack, but lately it's been Ryan. He keeps flashing through my head, and when that happens, I get really upset. I know I need to move on, but it's really hard."

"It's only natural that this will take time. You loved him, and that doesn't go away just because he hurt you. But it sounds like he also helped you. Would you agree with that?"

Shifting on the couch, I say, "I suppose. But, it really just seems like a façade. Like everything I thought he was helping me through wasn't real because the whole thing was a lie."

She flips a page over on her tablet and begins taking notes before asking, "But was it a lie? We know he held onto the secret of who he was to you, but were the feelings a lie?"

"I don't know. I mean...they felt real."

"If Ryan would have told you from the beginning who he was, if he was honest about that, do you think you would have let yourself feel what you felt for him?"

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I say, "Yes."

"So, was it all a lie then?"

I shake my head and say, "I get what you're saying, but I can't go back."

"I'm not saying go back. There was a betrayal, and you have every right to guard yourself against that, but don't dismiss your feelings as a lie. He was able to show you that you are capable of loving, and trusting, and having faith."

"I just don't know how to move past him."

She sets her pen and tablet down and leans back in her chair. "Well, that takes time, just like any loss we suffer. What is one thing you think you can do to help that process?"

"I don't know. I guess...I guess I need to stop spending so much time thinking about why I can't go back to him and just focus on the fact that I was already with him and it just didn't work. When I think about why I can't go back, it's like I'm trying to convince myself that I shouldn't, when I really need to focus on the fact that it just isn't an option. He's my past, and I need to start focusing on what I'm going to do about my future."

"And what about your future can you focus on?"

"My dancing. I have my performance this weekend, so hopefully offers will start coming in this next week. I need to focus on making New York happen. It's always been my dream."

She picks up her notepad and begins to write as she says, "I think you have a good plan."

We continue on to discuss issues about Jack and some of the paranoia I still feel about him for the rest of the session. After making my follow-up appointment, I stop by the house and grab my dance bag to spend the rest of the day rehearsing and focusing more on the thing I do have control over, which is my career, not Ryan.

When I get home, I decide to start taking more control, like Dr. Christman suggested. I can't keep avoiding situations that make me nervous and uncomfortable. I know I can't keep hiding from my emotions because I'm too scared to deal with them.

I take out my phone, scroll down to Roxy's name, and tap her number. After several rings, she answers.

"Candace, hey."

"Hey Rox, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Hun, I always have time for you. How are you?"

"I'm doing better, actually. I wanted to call and apologize for my behavior and walking out on you. I've been going through some stuff, and I was out of line."

"I've been worried about you. We used to always talk, but I feel like you've somehow gotten lost this year, and I wish I knew how to be a friend to you."

"You are a friend. And I love you. It's been a rough year, but I think I'm getting on the right track. It feels that way, at least."