Dear Diary,

Date: January 23rd, 2023

I took London's advice. I went and saw a therapist. It worked out...actually okay.

Her name was Whitney. She had dark tan skin and she wore a black pencil skirt. She had on a white dress shirt with black heels. She had her hair up in a bun and she wore circular glasses. She tucked a pencil behind her ear and she was very understanding. She never interrupted me and she would put her input, but never compare our lives.

She asked many questions like, "How did you feel at first about Estral?"

I told her this: "Estral was my best friend. When I lost him, I felt responsible for it. I felt like I was the reason. Then again, that's all I've felt since my mother died."

She would write down on her small clipboard with a few pieces of paper attached to it. I remember asking her if anyone would see this. She told me that it would just be her who saw these.

She asked other questions like, "How did you react after you said what you said?" and "What do you think would've happened if you didn't say what you did?"

For once, I had no answers.

She asked me about London. I couldn't stop smiling and I ended up rambling. She smiled and told me how only them would see this, if anyone were going to see it, I mean.

London was happy that I listened to them. We, actually, just got our child today. Her name is Mikayla. London told me how Mikayla had a twin brother and basically begged me to adopt the other one.

What, did you expect me to say no?

The boy's name was Matthew. Once I saw him, he lit up with happiness and said, "I have parents!"

I didn't want a kid living with only one parent like me.