Dear Kyle,
Do you remember when we met?
I remember it like it was yesterday. You were my court appointed therapist, and I was your patient.
When I walked in immediately I could feel my cheeks blush, overwhelmed by you.
It almost hurt me sitting across from you, telling you about my fucked up life. I've never opened up to anybody but you. You're the only person who knows all of what's happened.
Do you remember when I started crying? And you made me a cup of hot chocolate and let me sob until my eyes hurt and nothing else could come out of them. Nobody's every listened to me before.
I know it was your job to care, but something felt different.
Week after week I came to you for a pick-me-up. Some weeks you would tell me stories and we would laugh, others you would ask me questions about myself.
Then that one session happened.
I was crying, and you were trying to comfort me. Our faces were so close, both us thinking the same thing. I wanted to kiss you there in that moment, and I could tell you wanted the same.
But I waited for you to make the move. And you did. You put your lips on mine as your hand found its way to my cheek. I could taste the coco on your lips, getting a hint of chocolate.
And then you pulled away, looking at me with sadness in your eyes. "We can't do this anymore." You explained, and then gave me another therapist you recommended.
But the joke was on you because I wasn't going to leave.
Love,
Danny
