The Welsh Maiden

Wakas

How are you?

How was your day?

How are you sleeping these days?

I deal with these questions for the past ten months.

To me, this may seem like no more than a small talk. I could give them plain answers like,

I'm fine. My day is quite fine. I slept well last night, thank you for asking.

The simpler the better, the shorter the better.

Anyone who asks me may not even bother to ask again and pry on my thoughts if I decided to not show any interests.

But with the old woman sitting comfortably on a white leatherette couch, she encourages all of her patients to talk more about their lives.

She is willing to listen.

And I too, is willing to give answers as honest as possible.

The room seemed familiar, it was too formal. 

The first time I was brought to a psychotherapy, I was barely twelve-year-old. Now that I am twenty-three, things have changed, a lot I must say.

Perhaps a good start to say that I was the one who brought myself into this facility. Sometimes the old lady and I wander around the garden, sit on the bench, or walk by the ocean.

"How are you?" She asked.

I was looking outside the window watching the leaves being scattered by the wind. 

"I'm not really doing well just like yesterday, just like the other day, and the day before that. I couldn't say I was completely fine for the past ten months."

"Bad day huh" She nodded. "How about your sleep? Do you still have nightmares every night?"

Now I locked my eyes unto the woman. "No," The smile on my face suddenly appeared as my mind did a constant flash of images. "I had a dream about her last night."

"Yea? Tell me about the dream." She encourages.

As I was telling her about the day I first met the love of my life, I felt like I was brought back to that certain day. The words were flowing smoothly from my mouth, my eyes were dreamy, and face flushed with crimson red.

It was not just a dream.

It did happen.

Maybe my mind was creating a series of flashbacks wherein I was completely happy. Or maybe my mind was playing tricks on me because I've been missing the person so much.

After telling her what I had dreamed of, I was once again lost in my own thoughts.

How was she?

How's her day?

Is she having nightmares too?

Now the voice inside me were contemplating whether I should feel free to come up with random questions only to myself, or should I say it out loud just so the lady in front of me would know.

My therapist said that it is safe to explore these things within myself that are somewhat threatening or causing my distress.

But now that the woman had asked me, I want to tell the truth. "What are you thinking?" She said.

I want to be honest not because I had been told, not because I need to, not because I have to. But mainly because there's this person who reminded me with those four words: