talk to me; | robin skinner/cavetown

[seventy-three]

[television / so far so good - rex orange county]

y/n's point of view

"so y/n, is this your first time having a therapy session?"

"well...yeah i guess," i fiddle with the loose threads from the sleeves of my sweater as the therapist flips to another page, scribbling down notes.

"what brings you here?" she asks, adjusting her glasses.

"my cousin suggested me to try it out since she thought i really needed it." i shrug, to which she nods then continued writing.

flipping a few more pages, the therapist pursed her lips then leaned forwards to her desk. "alright," she lets out an assured smile. "it looks like you've already sent all of your requirements so...would you like to tell me more about your personal life?"

taking a deep breath, she mutters take your time, making me nod in reply. it was my first time talking about my problems to a professional. i've always imagined what it was like, i thought it was easy but god i couldn't seem to recollect all the things i've thought about these past few years.

"sorry, maybe that was a bit too direct. how about this..." she clears her throat. "how would you describe your life? like, in your own words, what was your past like?" she clicks her pen, waiting for me to say something.

i wasn't sure how to say how i was about to feel without making it sound so...vague? pretentious? dramatic? but i guess fuck it, how will i ever get to release my emotions if i always doubt about them?

"i mean, it's sounds a bit weird i guess but...everything just felt...blue?" i grimaced, making her scribble down. "like, i don't mean the emotion for 'blue', i mean like the colour of how i feel is blue...if that makes any sense." i stutter.

"care to elaborate on that?"

"i sort of associate my memories and experiences through colours, i'm not quite sure if that's normal but it's what i oddly do." i look down on my hands, which i noticed were getting a bit shaky. "if i think about my childhood, i see–and i suppose feel red; if i think about my teen years, it's grey—now, everything's just...blue. a specific shade of blue too. it used to feel like comforting, you know, until i left my hometown," i chuckle. "the shade of blue kinda just...gotten darker, the blue didn't feel comforting as it used to be."

"are you an art student?" they ask all of a sudden.

"um...yes?"

"i figured, you had such a way with words." she shakes her head and laugh as she scribbled more. "but i totally understand what you're trying to convey. though, i would like to know what do you think made "that shade of blue" darker?" she asks.

"um..." i hesitate to respond. "i left someone without saying anything." i grit my teeth, mentioning my mistake. "i honestly just...fee guilty for leaving him without saying a word or a warning. i think i left him on a bad note."

"how long have you been friends with this person?"

"i guess about two or three years," i replied. "he and i are very close and i love him so much., they were always there for me and i was always there for him. until well, something struck in me and i realized that i...see him as more than a friend, and i was nervous that it would ruin our bond."