Ophelia groans, kicking the door to her shitty ass apartment closed behind her, rubbing her temples as she kicks off her shoes, tossing her bag onto the counter and walking into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with the sink water, because she forgot to fill up the brita.

A full fucking year of giving up my precious Sundays to some damn shrink, she groans internally, chugging down the mineral and bacteria dense liquid, before tossing the dish into the sink, and making her way to the couch, sitting down and lighting up a joint. Sure, her therapist told her she should probably stop that along with the liquor, but... nobody's perfect right? Damn know it all always talks about self forgiveness anyways.

She sighs, closing her eyes as she feels the relaxing effect immediately. This session was brutal, looking into her 'abandonment issues' and how they've affected her girlfriend. God, her girlfriend... She loves her so much. Really, she does. No matter how much she bitched, moaned, cried, and screamed about therapy being a scam when those pretty lips dropped that ultimatum. Should have listened the first 100 times. Her baby always knows what's best for her.

This past year has been a learning experience, figuring herself out, trying desperately to keep her girlfriend with her, and to fix their relationship. She's done... ok. Good enough, at least. As much as Ophelia can, which is enough, as her damn shrink would say. She's never seen her girlfriend shine so bright, though. Especially when she finally told her folks about them. Of course they loved her girlfriend, even over facetime. How could you not? God damn it, she loves her. So fucking much. Ophelia groans, taking another drag of the joint as she checks her phone. She should be home any minute... Can't wait to see my baby.