therapy / e.d

3

It's been three days since my first session and all I've been thinking about is how I first met him. When he smiled at me, when he called me beautiful, the way he said my name so effortlessly.

Replaying the moment we met in my mind is both a good and bad thing. Good because I'm not focused on the awful memories. Bad because I miss him, more than anything in the entire world.

Mom kept asking me how the session went which I would respond with "it was okay." I knew she wanted to know more details but she didn't press me for answers. I think it's because I've pushed her away.

To be fair, it did help release some of my sadness but opening up my memories to Dr Evans also opened up empty and helpless emotions. Like for example as soon as I got home from the session, I sat in my room for three hours straight, silently crying while staring at my empty pin board.

This whole weekend consisted of me moping around the house so this afternoon, I set off for the park and to try and put my mind at ease. I can't bare to stay in that house for another second, especially with mom constantly asking if I'm okay. I need fresh air.

Mom was worried about me leaving the house, of course. Why does she insist on seeing me as a child who'll get lost once I step out of the house? This is why I get irritated by her concern.

I arrive at the park and sit on the bench, in view of the sun beginning to set. My converse covered feet make contact with the bench as I bend my legs up to my chest. I need to stop sitting like this. With what Dr Evans observed my position to be the cause of my anxiety, it doesn't make me feel good but I can't help it.

I rest my chin on my knee and observe my surroundings. There are a couple of kids on the playground and a few people on the field but I pay no attention to anyone.

I'm stuck in my own world as I stare at the playground swings, feeling goosebumps rise all over my body as the memory forces itself into my mind. No. Not again.

"You're a child." Ethan mocks, leaning against the swing support pole as I sway on one of the swings.

If I'm a child for loving the swings then so be it. I poke my tongue at him and he laughs. There's no one at the park besides us. Probably because of the weather. It's supposed to rain.

We were walking back home to avoid possibly getting rained on but once I spotted the park, I ran to the swings with an annoyed Ethan following behind me and laughing at my childish behaviour. In my defence, you can't just walk past a park and not feel the temptation of going on the swings, right?

"Go on the other swing." I tell him and come to a stop on the swing.

I watch him uncross his arms and a smile spreads across my face as he walks over to stand in front of me. He tugs the sleeves of his black hoodie further down his wrists.

I don't know what we're calling this. Is it a hangout or a date? Oh who am I kidding? This isn't a date. Ethan just asked me if I wanted to go for a walk. He did not call it a date.

Am I too forward for even thinking this could possibly be a date? We kissed for the first time last week but we haven't really discussed it. Things just continued as normal much to my dismay. I thought maybe he liked me the way I like him? Maybe we just kissed because it was a spur of the moment thing?

"It's going to rain, Walker. Let's go, come on." He grips the chains of the swing and I place my hands over his, boldly.

Yeah, we didn't think this think this through when we started our walk. Well, Ethan should've checked the weather forecast.