dreamlikenewyork | "Everything is clearly now in hindsight. Twenty-twenty hindsight."

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"Everything is clearly now in hindsight. Twenty-twenty hindsight."

Who: Austin Shaw and Beau Watson
What: Working on Closure
Where: Oncology Unit, Mount Sinai
When: After this

When Liam was giving Austin the pep talk at the party about going to see Beau and why, after enough drinks to nearly trip down the stairs, he had a lot more balls than he did arriving at the hospital about to face the inevitable. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have gulped down two glasses of water and a large black coffee to try to sober up a bit before he got to the hospital. He had to get the cab to stop a block too soon when none of it wanted to stay down on top of however many New Year's appletinis he had been drowning his sorrows in. But at least that and the walk in the chilly winter air sobered him up a bit more before he got to the hospital.

Liam said that Beau was working the nightshift because he was monitoring Brandon closely with the Graft-versus-Host Disease, something Austin knew about because he researched everything about bone marrow transplants when Beau was sick again during their marriage. Apparently Beau and Brandon had the same type of leukemia but Beau's chance of getting GvHD was less because his brother had donated the marrow. Even still, Beau had been so sick, they nearly lost him. Austin really did know what Merlin was going through. A whole lot of terrifying crap you could barely think about because you thought every time you woke up, your husband wouldn't be breathing or every next conversation with a doctor, they would give a terminal diagnosis.

It was also why Austin knew the Oncology Unit almost as well as they knew their home at the time. As soon as he got there, he was having second, third, fiftieth thoughts. His stomach was churning more with nerves than from the booze he had. The only thing stopping him turning around and getting another cab back to where he was staying was knowing Liam would ask Beau if he came, so he would be sprung anyway.

He expected to have to ask a nurse or a clerk to see Beau when he got to the desk, but the world was going to completely shove him into the deep end. As soon as he walked into the unit, quiet and dim for night, Beau was sitting at the circular nurses station nursing a grande cup and laughing at something the nurse sitting with him was saying. Beau looked up when he realised someone was coming into the unit and Austin saw the exact moment the penny of shock dropped.

"I ran into Liam at the party..." he murmured, clearing his throat, glancing at the nurse with a rush of relief she wasn't male. It wasn't Zander, Beau's boyfriend.

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"Not quite the boozy trainwreck I was when I got here. Fabulous electrolytes, darling." Austin pulled himself back up onto the bed and gave Beau a faint wry smile. "I remember those days, when you were on PEG feeding because you were so sick. It felt like you were never going to eat again and I could never quite believe the doctors when they said that was enough for you. Now, of course, I know Tara is the best Oncologist basically in the universe and she's married to the best Hematologist, so they helped let you stick around for awhile longer. Hopefully until you're at least, like, ninety-eight, if there's any Powers That Be up there taking requests. All that fear of the unknown and no way to give accurate answers, it takes its toll. You try to stay positive and keep hope, but it's not always possible. The bad days... the worst days, it doesn't even feel like you have the strength to keep breathing yourself. All I wanted to do was take your pain away. All I did was cause you more."

Beau flopped back into the chair and tested if his coffee was still at a palatable temperature, but it was tepid and tasted like burnt feet. He barely avoided gagging on it. "You caused me more pain than cancer?" He huffed, bemused and glanced over at the window where the blinds were open. It wasn't much of a view but it gave him something else to look at while his brain clunked back into gear with all this stuff. "Nothing's more pain than cancer, no matter how fabulous an asshole you can be at times. Austin, I'm the same person I was when you cheated on me. I haven't changed. Cancer ruined me the second time. I don't know if I'm ever going to recover from that or be anything remotely close to who I used to be. So, you can't know if you still love me. You love the idea of me. You love the me I was before. You need to let it go. I can't be what you need anymore and I don't know if I can forgive you for what you did."

"I, um... I... I realise I'm risking being punched in the dick for floating this, but... maybe neither of us are who we used to be because we were better together? Before I fucked up and dropped the ball." Austin was making himself nauseous with anxiety saying these words out loud that had been locked going over and over in his head since he bumped into Beau that day. Beau wasn't stonewalling him. He was still here. He was listening. Maybe it would never be the right time to say these things but he swore he'd be honest with Beau from now on. No more hiding and no more fucking up. "I just... don't feel complete without you. Maybe that's cliche as ever-loving hell but it's the truth. I've felt like I'm just floundering. I miss you. I miss us. Our worst of worse days would be better than no us at all. I know you told me if I ever cheated on you, we'd be game over. I do and I respect that but I can't not tell you this. Which I never planned to tell you. I didn't want to fuck with you more. But you kissed me back that day, B. You kissed back. Fuck, sorry... I feel sick." He rested his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes and putting his hand over them with a slow exhalation.

Edited 2020-01-25 06:10 (UTC)

Beau sat forward and put a bowl in Austin's lap just in case. He didn't say anything at first. He rested his elbow on the side of the bed so he could hold his tired head up and wet his lips. Austin was opening the floodgates of everything Beau hadn't wanted to think about or deal with. It was so cut and dried for him initially. Austin cheated, Beau ended the marriage, no questions asked, just like he warned. That was easy to door-slam the whole thing. He just walked away. Never healed, never got closure, just forced himself to get on with life just holding his head above water so he didn't drown. He felt sick too, but not his stomach. His heart, his soul, his head. "What was the breaking point?" he soon asked in a murmur that was just audible. "What was it that made you think one day that I wasn't in love with you anymore? What was it, what was the proverbial straw?"

Austin shook his head, even if it made his headache worse. Every beneath his skull felt on fire. Beau was right, the fruity drinks were a mistake. "It wasn't like that. There was no straw. No breaking point. It was just a slow erosion in my head the more you withdrew. I didn't go out to cheat on you because we weren't making love. I mean it when I say that. I went out to get trashed and try to switch off the pain for a bit. I guess the E just forced everything to the forefront. I don't know. I knew as soon as I did that I'd lost you. Before that, I was trying. I just didn't know how to help you. I thought giving you space was what you needed. I never pressured you, did I? I've been trying to figure out what it was that I did that made you think I cheated because you wouldn't sleep with me. I've been trying to find the proverbial straw too but it just wasn't like that. I was in it with you forever. I don't regret telling you I still love you, that I ache to hold you. That's..." He didn't even know what he was trying to say anymore. He just off the bed, dragging the IV pole into the bathroom and managed to somehow throw up spectacularly all over again. This definitely was just the fruity drinks anymore.

Even if Austin had disappeared into the bathroom as quickly as he could, Beau was gesturing with both to the sick bowl he just left right there for him, and exasperated sigh falling out of him. He slumped down in the chair and resting his head on the back of it. It gave him a moment to breathe and process what Austin was saying. Moments like these, he wasn't sure why he chose to specialise in Oncology because his hate for cancer felt like a physical pain inside. But he understood it was more than just your body is destroyed and he knew what his patients were facing. That was why he was here on New Year's night on intensive monitoring of a VIP patient with Graft-verses-Host Disease, because cancer didn't spare you because you were a millionaire or a celebrity, and he was listening to his ex puking in a bathroom - who was his ex due to cancer - because it didn't spare doctors who treated cancer either. Fuck, if only treating other peoples' cancer gave you a free pass out of getting it yourself. Getting it a second time, even. And now, all of a sudden, he couldn't even figure out the answer to Austin's conundrum. What was it that made him think Austin cheated because their sex life was annihilated by chemo?

Once Austin managed to stop throwing up after three attempts and barely managing not to kneel on the hospital bathroom ground in Gucci, he rinsed his mouth at the sink and went back into the room. "You know what? I'm just going to go. This is pointless. I shouldn't have come. It's not fair to you and nothing I say will take back what I did to you and how that betrayed out marriage. Which is over. So very, very over. So, I'm just going to..." He didn't even know what to keep saying. He peeled the tegaderm off the back of his hand in one sharp tug and it pulled the IV needle out with it. Blood started to piss out of the back of his hand but he grabbed some tissues from the box by the bed and pressed it to the wound before he scooped up his jacket and left the room so he could get to the nearest elevator and exist before he burst into frustrated and angry tears at himself for even thinking this was a good idea. Damnit, Liam. Why the fuck did you make this sound like a good idea?

Beau got up and followed Austin into the corridor. "Austin." He kept his voice low so he didn't wake any nearby patients but it was enough for Austin to still hear him. Beau wasn't the one with the hangover here, his pace was quicker than Austin's, so he caught up without needing to even run. "Come back. We're not done. And now I have to stick a needle in you somewhere else to finish the IV. It's New Year. No one should be drunk and alone on New Year. So, get your ass back into that bed and let me do what I do best. That sounded way dirtier out loud than in my head. I'm talking about doctoring," he clarified when he saw one of his shift nurse smirking at him from beyond the circular desk in the middle of the ward. One that wouldn't know Austin was his ex-husband because she had only been working at the hospital a couple of months. As far as she was concerned, Zander had been his other half and now they had called it quits with a resolve not to make it awkward because they worked together. He was really glad Zander wasn't on shift tonight.

Austin stopped when he heard Beau say his name, even if he had no idea why he was even coming after him. It would be easier for him to just let him leave and chalk this bullshit up to Austin having too much to drink and in the morning, he could send him a text and tell him he'd keep his distance. Now that option had gone out the window because Beau was giving him The Face. His caring doctor face, with his caring doctor voice, whilst simultaneously accidentally saying something that did sound completely dirty and, hell, how much he wished he could wind back the clock to the time they could laugh about that and act on it. But he wouldn't negate the trauma Beau had been through with his second battle with leukemia that left him with sexual issues, issues he had outright confided in Austin were still a thing. Beau used to be one of the most sexual people Austin ever met, which was saying something because he used to be a prized and proud manwhore himself so he met a lot of horny people in his time. Was that the proverbial straw? That he had been grieving the person Beau used to be before he nearly died from cancer a second time, when all along he promised Beau he still loved him unconditionally? "Are you sure?" he asked quietly after a fleeting glance at the nurse who was still smirking when she left the desk to answer a patient buzzer.

"About getting your IV back in so you can't stop being sick and feel better? Yeah, of course. About everything else? No, not really. But I'm not sure about anything in my life right now, Austin." Beau lowered his voice, glancing over the nurses' station to make sure no one else was in hearing distance. "Do you know how many times I've written resignation letters for my job? Six. In the last two months. My job. My dream. I can't give you surety. I can give you talking. Which is more than I thought I'd ever want to do if I saw you again after the divorce. If that's not enough, then you can go. I won't stop you. But at least finish the IV and I'll steer clear. But barring any patient emergencies, I've got some time before I have to do morning rounds. Ball's in your court. I can even say balls without smirking."

His pager when off and he swore under his breath because it had the worst timing possible. He took his phone out to check the message, but it thankfully wasn't an emergency. "Right after I write up some meds for one of my patients. I seem destined to ring in my a new decade showered in puke." He took his pen out and moved over to the desk, pointing at Austin with it. "That's not aimed at you, so no using it as an excuse to ditch talking if it's actually what you really want. I'm an Oncologist two-time cancer survivor, I'm awesome with puke." He picked up one of the tablets and used the stylus on the end of his pen to bring up the patient record. He drew up the medication order and then took out his phone to call the nurse who requested it back to give the verbal okay for them to administer.

Austin's alcohol-soaked brain was stuck on Beau's reveal that he had been seriously contemplating resigning from his job when, fuck yes, it was his dream. He was made to be a doctor, to be an Oncologist. This, along with Beau telling him the last time he spoke that had moments where he hadn't wanted to live, drove home how serious Beau was when he said he had been struggling after he beat the second bout of leukemia. Austin blinked, gaping a little at Beau as he did his doctor thing on the tablet forgetting about his own issues for a few moments while that extra information infiltrated his heart and made it feel like his ribcage was folding in on it. "O-Okay. I'll stay... and try not to contribute further to your shower of puke. Maybe. I'm just feeling a little sick right now and it has nothing to do with the alcohol."

Beau made a little twirling motion with his finger to get Austin to turn around. "Come on, back on the bed. Look, I'm just going to resolve myself to the fact there's going to be innuendos in anything I say tonight and leave it at that. So, go back in there so I can poke you again." He put his hand on Austin's shoulder and steered him into the room where the IV machine was buzzing after it had been disconnected. Once Austin was back sitting on the bed, he felt him for only a few moments to get some replacement supplies to reinsert the IV line. When he was back, he handed Austin the basin. "That's for puking. I know we're not married anymore and you're probably trying some valiant attempt not to be vulnerable in front of me but divorce doesn't just erase a past. I've seen you throw up countless times and I've seen you at your most vulnerable. Unless you're about to have some unfortunate bout of explosive diarrhoea, just stay put until the bag's done, okay? Hearing the truth is painful, I know. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't survive too. It's a monster I've not figured out how to conquer yet." After he put some gloves on, he pulled up a stool and first cleaned up the puncture wound on Austin's hand with a antiseptic swab and put a little round band-aid on it.

It had to be all in his head but Austin was so sure he felt a tingle through his shoulder where Beau touched him. Your brain did weird shit when you still loved someone. "Can I just take a moment to be grateful explosive diarrhoea isn't a symptom of a hangover?" he murmured, trying to settle back on the bed but he was even tenser now than when they first began talking. Beau probably felt like he changed a whole lot since he had been sick - he said as much - but in essence, Beau was still in there. He was still bluntly honest and wasn't filtering for Austin's sake. That was another part of him Austin fell in love with when they met. Beau could be gentle when he needed to and had a great bedside manner but he didn't panda to anyone when honest truth bombs were needed. He didn't pretend to be anything he wasn't. "There's nothing you need to be sorry about. None of this is anything you should be apologising for. Thank you, but no. I need to hear the truth. It's the only way I'll be able to move on. Just like that Kelly Clarkson song..."

"You might need to elaborate on that. Not exactly a banging Kelly Clarkson fan." Beau couldn't even tell you what songs were hers, let alone what they were about. He was more a classic rock dude. Austin, growing up with a musical brother, was more in touch with music than he had ever been. He even liked that techno dance shit that gave Beau a headache. He cleaned the rest of the blood off Austin's wrist and fingers, being extra-cautious because of the HIV. Austin had said he had no current detectable viral load but you still had to be careful, especially in a hospital. "Look, just because I had no control over what happened in my head or the subsequent fallout from it, doesn't mean I'm not sorry our marriage ended. I didn't think you'd ever hurt me but I also never thought I'd actively want to die either. I also don't want to erase the fact all this would've hurt you too. Don't get me wrong, I wanted you to hurt as much as you hurt me but it was a reactionary protective mechanism."

Before Beau could start reinserting the IV line, Austin got his phone and AirPods out of the pocket of his jacket. He handed Beau the AirPods and found Kelly Clarkson's song, Already Gone on Apple Music so he could listen to it. Then he just sat there quietly while Beau stabbed him to get the IV line back in, this time going further up his arm. It barely hurt again. In that moment, he felt that horrible ache not unlike homesickness to be with his twin. Angel being in another country was hard enough in general for him but now, trying to face up to the fact he destroyed his marriage, he missed his brother more than ever. What would Angel say to this? His attempt to fix some sort of something with Beau now he had returned to New York, seeking closure when he wasn't even sure he was capable of healing from this. He didn't want anyone else but it was clear from the way Beau was navigating this that there was absolutely no chace of reconciliation. There was no relationship left to salvage. He just wasn't sure if he could cope with having Beau as a mere friend.

Edited 2020-01-27 04:12 (UTC)

It wasn't an unfamiliar song but it was the first time Beau heard it and actively took note of any lyrics. He was glad he had the IV line to focus on because he found himself choking up and getting teary. Not because the lyrics were sad but because they were triggering pain of what was lost and the shadows of the pain he felt when Austin admitted he cheated on him. That pain wasn't something he had been able to feel at first. Initially, he was angry. At everything. Mostly at Austin but also had himself, at cancer, at the world. Anger that had been band-aided over by depression during the time after his remission he was detached and on autopilot. He didn't even know if he went through the grief cycle. It was more like he simply ghosted the fact he was married. Once the divorce was legally official, he just dove back into autopilot and didn't let himself asses his feelings too closely because that was when he would feel too overwhelmed with everything to process it. The depression woulc kick in along with wanting to throw the towel in on his life, his job included. When the song was over, he took the AirPods out and handed that back to Austin in silence. He finished the line and set the IV pump back to do it's thing to finish off the bag of electrolytes. Maybe he needed one himself. His gut was definitely knotted up and making him feel sick. He had a lump in his throat and words couldn't get past it straight away. He tried to swallow it down and sack back, folding his arms over his chest. Then it happened... some tears escaped and spilled over. He brushed them away. "What did you want me to say when you told me you still loved me? What did you want to happen?"

As soon as Austin saw Beau's tears and heard how choked up he was in his voice, he was done for too. Tears welled up and he pressed his fist to his mouth to try to stop outright bursting into tears and bawling. He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe I hoped you'd say you changed your mind and wanted to try again but I know that's not possible. Maybe let me hug you. I don't know... I really don't know. Nothing, really. I've been trying to figure out all night if I should've said something. I talked myself out of it over and over, then it was just... exploding out of me. I guess there's a whole lot I want but it's all fantasy. Reality's never that easy or simple. But all that would mean you'd have to change your mind about the cheating and I know you, that's not fair to expect when you explicitly spelt out to me before we even got married that you had zero-tolerance for cheating. I... I don't think there's anywhere we can go from here. I don't know what's supposed to happen now. It's over but... I don't think I'm ever going to get over. That's not even fair for me to tell you. I just can't feel anything else, no matter how much time passes."

"Idealistic. I mean, I don't blame you for wanting it but when have we ever been idealists? I've always thought we were realists so we're not going to be able to resolve anything on an idealistic scale." Beau secured the IV line and took the added step of covering it with a light bandage so if Austin wanted to get freaked out by the weight and terror of this conversation and yank it out again, Beau would have time to stop him before he hurt himself again. He already had a dark bruise forming over the back of his hand from where he tore the last one out but that could be factored down to being HIV Positive now. "There. No touching until the bag's finished. I'll give you some arnica for that bruise when you go home. You should've said something. Even if all this hurts, I'm still glad you want to talk it out. I don't think holding onto anger is good for either of us, health or emotional-wise. How do you know my feelings haven't already shifted hearing the situation wasn't as cut and dried as I thought it was? I had to learn that you didn't cheat on me beause I wouldn't have sex with you, and you had to learn my mental issues were a lot deeper than you thought. We're both hurting here. I respect that."

"Can I..." Austin began but stopped himself, sighing. He chewed the corner of his lip when awkwardness and uncertainty set in. "Okay, I don't even know if I can ask this, darling, but I'm just going to put it out there. I know if you won't want to answer, you'll say so and tell me to fuck off because it's none of my business. Because you're right, we've always kept it real and I learned a lot of how to best pull that off from you. I'm also not hitting on you. Nothing like that. It's purely because I care about you and I'm worried now you've given me the bigger picture. I guess what I'm trying to ask is how I should've gone about things to not fuck it up as badly as I did, thinking it was a sexual thing. Is it that you don't want to have sex? You don't get pleasure out of it anymore or don't feel like it, feel like intimacy. Or is more of a mechanical thing, where you can't get it up so it's not worth bothering? Sorry if I'm not framing it the best way. I don't want to offend you. I felt like you didn't want me near you at all back then and I'm just wondering if it's because I was making you feel like it was a staple. I want to understand the complexity, that's all."

Beau gave nod and cleared his throat. "That's fair. Seeing as it was a catalyst, then I'm okay with you asking. But give me a couple of minutes. I really need another coffee and to take a piss, so I'll be back in a few minutes. You better still be here when I get back or there's no do-over on this conversation." He got up and went to grab some cash from his desk drawer and after a quick stop at the bathroom, went to the vending machine. The mocha was tolerable and had caffeine, so it was the best option he had without going all the way down to the cafeteria like he normally would on his break. He hated instant because it upset his stomach so this was the lesser of two evils. He came back with his large coffee and a can of ginger ale with a straw, setting it down on the tray beside Austin. "I know you prefer ginger ale when you're not feeling well. Okay, the simple answer to your questions are I just... don't really feel like sex all that much. If I do, I just take care of it myself. Post-chemo cock, I've got it down to less than two minutes. The more complex answer is I don't have much sex drive anymore and I might never again. Much like I can't eat pizza or drink milk anymore because it goes straight through me. Just, you know, slightly more hot."

Beau was only gone a few minutes but it gave Austin a bit of time to think about all this. He couldn't quite believe Beau agreed to talk to him about sex when it was what ultimately led to their marriage terminating. They were getting to the hard stuff now but Austin planned to stick it out, at least until Beau had to do his rounds. He looked at the can of ginger and then glanced up to Beau with a hint of a smile. He wasn't going to let himself get stuck on Beau caring for him and remembering what he needed. It meant nothing. Beau was a doctor. This was his bread and butter. "So, it's your sex drive more than not being able to physically do it? What else has it done to you? Long term things. You can't eat dairy? I remember that was already bothering you while you were getting treatment. I had to share a bed with you, remember?" he added with a faint smirk, opening the can of ginger ale and slipping the straw into it. "You look well but I know that doesn't mean anything with you. I missed so much even when I was right there with you. What else did it I miss? I vowed to you I'd take care of you in sickness and in health."

"It's both. Honestly, this is the first I've really confronted it but new decade and all, right? It's not denial. It's just easy to not think about sex when you don't feel like it and have no libido. It's like, say there's this giant chocolate cake and everyone wants some of it. They can have as much or as little as they want and they know it's going to taste awesome because they've been having chocolate cake for years. I used to love chocolate cake. A lot of it. Now all of a sudden, after having cancer treatment, not only do I not feel like chocolate cake anymore, I don't even really feel like any cake. Even if I occasionally think, okay, I might just have a small bit, nine times out of ten, I drop the spoon before I finish it." Beau shrugged, figuring it was the best metaphor he had. He sipped the coffee and then nursed the cup against his chest. "Wedding vows aren't an unbreakable contract, as much as we wish they were. They're a promise. Promises get broken. Other than the sex stuff, I tire easily, so I have longer breaks in my rotation. The hospital's been really great about it. I'm lactose intolerant. Some days I have bone pain, so I've had to learn to take it easy when that happens and weed helps, so there's that. Recovery was never going to be a walk in the park but I never expected to lose myself so much. Shit, talking about this stuff is exhausting..." He scratching his fingers through his hair when a fatigue set in.

"You shouldn't have been going any of that alone," Austin murmured, having to actively force himself inside not to reach out to try to hug Beau. He wanted to. He wanted to hug him and so much more. Those lonely nights after a long day at work when they would snuggle on the sofa or crash in bed to spoon, he missed Beau more than ever. His absence felt like a physical ache. He lost count of the number of times he drafted lengthy emails to Beau repeatedly apologising and begging for a second chance but he never sent them. He always lost the nerve before hitting send. "I don't mean that you haven't had family and friends close. I know you do. But without us. When you needed me the most, I dropped the ball... no pun intended. You, um... you asked me what if your feelings were shifting now the situation wasn't as cut and dried as you thought. Have they? Or are you just trying to soften the blow?

"I was on autopilot. I didn't feel alone, I felt detached. Which is probably worse in a lot of ways because it means you can't always recognise something was wrong. I knew a lot wasn't right, and I knew I felt empty, but I put it down to fatigue. When I wasn't working, I just wanted to be in bed. The problem with cancer and chemo is that it can make someone recovering fatigued, so that's what we all put it down to. That's why I'm not laying everything on you. Don't get me wrong, I was so hurt and angry when you did it. I felt betrayed and defective. I thought you went out looking for sex because I couldn't give it to you. That's genuinely what I've been thinking. You thought I was falling out of love with you and didn't want you near. So, fucking what? It's fucking impossible right now for me not to be thinking if we could've saved our marriage, that it didn't have to end like that." Beau stopped, taking a deep breath once he let those feelings fall out of him in black and white, no holds barred. "But I don't know. I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I've got no fight left, for anything. I just come to work, go home, go through the motions. Do the family thing, the friends thing but even that's autopilot. Brandon and Merlin coming to us for treatment once Merlin drew Brandon into our fold, it's woken up a lot of my own issues and I've been very much feeling my own unpredictable mortality. So, yeah... my feelings have shifted."

Austin watched Beau closely as he spoke, took in the weary tone of his voice and could hear how he was mapping out his feelings the best he could. But there was a detachment there, something he had seen in Beau before he fucked up and destroyed everything, but that he didn't recognise was as deep as it was. It was almost like Beau was talking to a therapist here. He was narrating his feelings but Austin felt he was being deflected at the same time. Should he try to dig deeper? Was it even his right to want to? "You're not okay," he said softly. "I'd want to fight for you, now I know you can't. I'd want to take care of you how I should have, be there for all your bad days. Is there any chance for us to start over or should I check into therapy and ask for intensive strategies to completely close that chapter of my life?"

"Everything is clearly now in hindsight. Twenty-twenty hindsight."

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