Colours of you

I

"And why exactly do you need counselling, again?"

I paused. I had never really been asked this question before. It either just wasn't very important to have known the reason or maybe it was because people didn't seem to care about any of this.

They never did anyways.

"I- "

I looked down, my gaze fixed on my fingers that rested on my lap. They were long and skinny and maybe, pale, if that was what pale meant. My nails were covered in light pink nailpaint and I secretly admired them. A small smile tried to creep its way into my face but I pushed it away.

"-I don't know, Mr. Kang."

I replied as I looked back up at the man in a blue shirt and grey trousers sitting cross legged in front of me. His hair was slowly greying and losing its thickness up at the front and fine wrinkles were starting to appear at the corners of the spectacled eyes. He held a clipboard and a pen and eyed me questioningly through his thick glasses.

"Fair enough. More than half of the people that come here do not know why they do."

His lips pressed together in a thin line- an expression of boredom, perhaps- and he scribbled something down on the paper attached to the clipboard.

"Do you do drugs?"

I looked at him like he was lunatic. He simply nodded in understanding and scribbled down again.

"Should've known that." He mumbled as he uncrossed his legs and rested the one on top on the floor.

I frowned slightly. Drugs isn't something I would've opted for even if the world was about to end, which kind of what felt like was happening right now.

"Commited a crime?"

I shook my head to a no.

"Suicide?"

I sighed, shook my head again and rested it against my palm.

This man will never be able to figure out my problem.

"Divorce?"

Maybe he will.

I stiffened. My head shot up to look at him and he didn't seem to be amazed. He simply scribbled again, keeping the same bored face.

He was slowly frustrating me.

"Is it more like a break up? You seem too young to marry." He looked up at me again.

This time, I noticed a change in his attitude. He didn't sound so bored anymore. Even interested, maybe.

And it wasn't only the fact that he was now looking at me expectantly for my answer but it was because I noticed that his voice had suddenly raised a little- a common indicator that someone was interested in a subject.

Being able to only hear voices for so many years does train your ears alright.

"Yes." I breathed out.

After we had broken up, which was three years ago, I had never actually talked with anyone about this. I felt that what happened, just was suppose to happen. I couldn't help it. Nobody could. And discussing about it only would've made matters worse. It would've kept me from being who I was right now. And although I did secretly wish that I could turn back time to the years when we were together, I simply realised it was impossible. For back then, it was too late and now, unnecessary.

"When did it happen?" he pushed on the topic, which I didn't mind because it was exactly what I had come for.

"Three years." I replied, a little ashamed.