Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 23 ~

The constant sound of ticking and tocking from the wall clock seems a bit cinematic for a suspense movie, but the whole suspense got ruined when it's just a person and a therapist waiting for each other to talk. In my defense, I don't even know what to talk about, and I'm just sitting here-not complaining in the slightest since the couch is really soft under me-waiting for Kate to make the first sentence. If I could keep count on the seconds we've been waiting for one another to talk, I'd day like somewhere around 10 minutes since one of us made a word. Those 10 minutes sounds like torture. Might as well put me in a Chinese water torture if this what's happening.

I try to fight the urge to yawn because that might deem rude considering that neither of us have released any noise from our mouths. With a sudden cough surrounding the deafening silence between us, finally Kate made a sound. I'm guessing she's about to say something. "So, what makes you visit a therapist?"

Blinking rapidly, should I be honest about visiting because she told me so? Yeah, I'll go with honesty with this one, considering the fact that I really don't know what to do here. "Uhm, you asked me to visit."

An amused smirk lifts out from the corner of her mouth, "But what do you think why I told you to visit?"

This is just like parents telling their child about what they did. Flashback on my parents telling me that they don't know what happened and continued to asked me what I did. It's quite clear that they know what I did, but they somehow wanted the information to come from me. I mean, why do parents do that? Later that day, I somehow told them, in all honesty, what I did-I played with my dad's Swiss pocket knife and accidentally ruined the curtains. Past is in the past, and mom bought a much more beautiful curtain than the ones I've ruined. Still, dad was furious of me playing with his pocket knife. So, they decided to ground me from watching television and using any of my digital toys. But jokes on them, I still found a way to play with my stuff-I hid under the bed and play in silence. Looking back, I think I have enough evidence that I'm a clever child. Now, I don't know what happened.

Judging by the pace of the conversation in here, clearly, I've been giving the same treatment here. Why did Kate tell me to visit? I have no idea. Thinking deeply to myself, I still don't know why did she ask me to visit. I didn't know I had an assignment even before the therapy session.

Before I could even make words out of my thoughts, my body did an involuntary shrug at her. With that shrug, I contain myself from laughing at the sight of Kate's lips become a flat line. Is it annoyance? Boredom? I don't know, but it's a hilarious sight.

"Judging by your impromptu spoken poetry, you're craving for freedom." She crosses her legs and clasp her hands together on her lap. It's quite a professional stance, unlike me, who's just slumped on the best couch I ever sat on. "One question remains, freedom from what exactly?" Again, I did an involuntary shrug at her, in result, makes her rub the in-between of her eyes. "Okay, let's answer this question first, what's holding you back, Declan?"

There are a lot of things I could think of that's holding me back, but I don't know which one is best to blurt out. For starters, the fear that the past might happen again, then there's the fear of not being good enough for my career. Oh, that's it, is it? The fear of not being good enough for anything? Clearing my throat, I open my mouth to say the words, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Oh, hold that thought." Kate raises a finger to signal me to hold my horses and be stable. Heh, stable... Horses, I'm hilarious. "Come in!" She calls out to whoever is behind the door.

With the twisting of the doorknob, the door flies wide open, only to reveal a man with the most cocky grin I have ever seen in my entire life. When he notices me, the grin immediately falls into a flat smile. "Oh, I didn't know you have a patient."