The therapist playbook

LOVE SICK

Raphael sat in the back of the classroom, his gaze subtly drifting towards Dami. She was sitting a few rows ahead, her attention focused on the teacher's lecture, but Raphael couldn't help but notice the way she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger, the way her lips curved into a slight smile when something in the lesson amused her. He was captivated by her, but something was off.

In the beginning, his feelings for Dami had been simple—an innocent crush, a soft affection that didn’t consume him the way his past infatuations had. But as time passed, those feelings became more complicated, more intense. He found himself thinking about her constantly, wondering what she was doing, who she was talking to, and most disturbingly, who else might have caught her eye.

It wasn’t long before Raphael began to sense a shift in their interactions. Dami was still friendly, still warm, but there was a certain distance, a barrier that Raphael couldn’t quite break through. He noticed the way she would sometimes avoid his gaze, the way her smiles didn’t reach her eyes as often anymore. It was subtle, but it was there, and it gnawed at him.

Raphael wasn’t the only one struggling with matters of the heart. His friends were also navigating the complexities of love, each of them dealing with their own unique challenges.

As Valentine's Day approached, Raphael’s anxiety around Dami only grew. He watched as she interacted with others, trying to decipher the meaning behind her actions. There were moments when she seemed fully engaged, laughing at his jokes, leaning in closer when they talked. But then, there were times when she would pull away, her attention seemingly elsewhere.

One afternoon, during a break between classes, Raphael found himself alone with Dami in the school library. It was a rare opportunity, and he decided to take advantage of it.

“Dami,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

She looked up from the book she was reading, her expression curious. “What is it, Raphael?”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. How could he ask her without sounding paranoid? Without pushing her further away?

“Do you ever feel like… like we’re not as close as we used to be?” he finally asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dami blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean? We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. It just feels different, like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Dami’s expression softened, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Raphael, you’re a great guy, and I care about you a lot. But sometimes… sometimes things just change. People change.”

Raphael felt a pang in his chest. He wanted to ask her if there was someone else, if that was the reason for the change, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Instead, he nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

But deep down, the uncertainty continued to fester. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Dami’s heart was drifting away from him, towards someone else. And the more he tried to hold on, the more it seemed to slip through his fingers.

Troy was dealing with his own set of troubles. The situation with Annette had started off strong, filled with passion and excitement. But as the weeks went by, things began to change. Annette was beautiful, confident, and as her popularity grew, so did the number of admirers vying for her attention.

Troy noticed it immediately. Guys who never paid her any mind before were now going out of their way to talk to her, to compliment her. And Annette, ever the social butterfly, enjoyed the attention. She was polite, never crossing any lines, but Troy couldn’t help but feel like he was losing her.

He tried everything to keep her interest—buying her gifts, writing her sweet notes, planning romantic dates. But no matter what he did, it never seemed to be enough. Annette appreciated the gestures, but there was a growing distance between them, one that Troy couldn’t bridge.

One evening, after a particularly frustrating day, Troy sat in his room, staring at the latest gift he had bought for Annette—a beautiful necklace, something he had saved up for weeks to buy. But now, holding it in his hands, he felt nothing but emptiness. Would this really change anything? Would this be the thing that finally made her see how much he cared?

He sighed, setting the necklace down on his desk. He was starting to feel desperate, and he hated it. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this painful. But for Troy, it seemed like no matter what he did, he couldn’t hold onto Annette the way he wanted to.

While Raphael and Troy struggled, Curtis was experiencing something entirely different. His relationship with Star had started off pure, a sweet connection that blossomed slowly over time. But as their bond deepened, so did their desire for each other.

Curtis had never felt this way about anyone before. He and Star were practically inseparable, always finding ways to be together, even during school hours. They would sneak away to hidden corners of the campus, sharing stolen kisses. Their love was passionate, intense, and all-consuming.

One afternoon, they found themselves alone in the art room, the place where their relationship had first blossomed. Star was working on a new painting, her brush moving gracefully across the canvas, while Curtis watched her, mesmerised.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Curtis said, his voice filled with admiration.

Star glanced at him, a shy smile playing on her lips. “I’m just doing what I love.”

“I love you,” Curtis blurted out, the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them.

Star froze, her brush hovering over the canvas. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “… I love you too.”

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their confession hanging in the air. And then, without another word, they closed the distance between them, their lips locked as their tongues collided in a deep, passionate kiss, as a hand cupped her face, the fingers of the other explored the hills within her chest, caressing its peak and surroundings. She gave out a soft moan, softly whispering his name

“Curtis….”

She grabbed onto his hair, breaking their lips away from the other, he gave her no room for second thoughts as he proceeded to kiss her on her neck. He was at this point ready to be crowned with her jewels, until they heard footsteps approaching, they suddenly broke loose and came back to reality.

From that day on, Curtis and Star were inseparable. Their love grew stronger with each passing day, and they were always spotted together, sharing intimate moments whenever they could. It was a love that burned brightly, and neither of them wanted it to end.

David’s relationship with Madonna, however, was beginning to show signs of strain. What had once been a carefree, joyful connection was now clouded by arguments and tension. David had always been confident, even a bit cocky, but lately, that confidence had started to morph into something darker—something that Madonna was finding increasingly difficult to deal with.

It started with small things—David making offhand comments about how Madonna should act. At first, she brushed them off, thinking he was just being protective. But as time went on, the comments became more frequent, more pointed.

One day, after school, they were walking home together when David made another comment about how she had been talking to one of their male classmates.

“I just don’t see why you need to be so friendly with other guys,” David said, his tone slightly accusatory.

Madonna frowned, stopping in her tracks. “David, they’re just my friends. You don’t need to worry about them.”

David’s expression darkened. “I’m not worried. I just think you should be more mindful of how it looks. People might get the wrong idea.”

Madonna crossed her arms, clearly frustrated. “What wrong idea? I’m allowed to have friends, David. You don’t get to control who I talk to.”

David’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not trying to control you, but you need to be more careful. You’re my girlfriend, and I don’t want people thinking otherwise.”

Madonna shook her head, her patience wearing thin. “ This isn’t about what other people think. This is about you not trusting me.”

The argument escalated, with neither of them willing to back down. By the time they reached Madonna’s house, they were both fuming, and the tension between them was palpable.

Valentine’s Day arrived with a mix of excitement and trepidation for Raphael and his friends. It was a day of grand gestures and confessions, a day when the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface were finally brought to light.

Raphael had spent days agonising over what to get Dami. He wanted something that would show her how much she meant to him, something thoughtful but not too over the top. In the end, he settled on a watch—a simple, elegant piece that he hoped she would like.

When he presented it to her, Dami’s eyes widened in surprise. “Raphael, this is beautiful,” she said, turning the watch over in her hands.

“I’m glad you like it,” Raphael replied, trying to gauge her reaction. He wanted to say more, to ask her about the distance he had been feeling between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment.

“Thank you,” Dami said, leaning in to give him a quick hug. It was a small gesture, but it filled Raphael with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Troy, meanwhile, had gone all out for Annette. He had bought her a large bouquet of roses, along with a necklace that he hoped would finally remind her of how much he cared. But when he gave it to her, her reaction was less enthusiastic than he had hoped.

“Thanks, Troy,” Annette said, accepting the gifts with a polite smile. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” Troy replied, trying to hide his disappointment. “You’re worth it.”

Annette smiled again, but there was something in her eyes—a hint of hesitation, of uncertainty—that made Troy’s heart sink. He had given her everything he could, but it still didn’t feel like enough.

Curtis and Star, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier. They had decided to keep things simple, exchanging handmade gifts that showed how well they knew each other. Star had painted a small canvas for Curtis, a scene of the two of them sitting together under a tree, while Curtis had written a song for Star, which he played for her on his guitar.

As the notes filled the air, Star’s eyes filled with tears. “Curtis, this is beautiful,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

“I wrote it for you,” Curtis said, his heart swelling with love as he watched her reaction. “You’re the most important person in my life, Star. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Star replied, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I love you, Curtis.”

David, however, wasn’t in the mood for grand gestures. After the argument with Madonna, he had decided to keep things low-key, opting for a simple box of chocolates and a card. But when he gave them to her, he could tell that things between them were still strained.

“Thanks, David,” Madonna said, her tone neutral as she accepted the gift.

“I’m sorry,” David blurted out, unable to hold back any longer.

Madonna sighed, her expression softening slightly. “I know, David. But we need to work on this, okay? I can’t be in a relationship where I feel like I’m constantly being watched.”

“I’ll do better,” David promised, hoping that he could mend the rift between them.

Despite the gifts, despite the moments of connection, Raphael couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He still felt that gnawing insecurity when he was around Dami, the sense that she was slipping away from him. As he walked home that evening, Raphael replayed the day’s events in his mind. He had tried so hard to show Dami how much he cared, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t enough. He paused as he passed by the old playground, the place where he had spent so many happy afternoons as a child. For a moment, he considered stopping, sitting on the swings, and letting the memories wash over him. But then, he heard a voice—a soft, whispering voice that sent a chill down his spine.

“Raphael…”

He turned around, his heart pounding, but there was no one there. The playground was empty, the swings gently swaying in the breeze. But the voice, that eerie, haunting voice, lingered in the air, filling him with a sense of dread.