Story cover for Transference: Falling in Love with My Therapist. by biteyeah
Transference: Falling in Love with My Therapist.
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Ongoing, First published May 24, 2020
Her therapist knows her inner thoughts, secrets and feelings better than anyone. She can say anything to him and he doesn't judge her.  He's listening to every word uttered by his 'client' without judgment or criticism. She felt an atmosphere where she feels no threat and can talk about intimate topics without fear of criticism. She finds herself looking forward to sessions and even wondering what to wear and what to look. Perhaps she's become his favorite patient.
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YuanFen by hannarie_21
36 parts Ongoing Mature
What we have is just now. As long as she loves me. As long as she wants to be with me. As long as there is 'we'. I love her! But the rainbow is not just a blend of vibrant and bright colors. It doesn't even stay for a long period of time-- just enough for us to see and in a fleet of time is gone, leaving us wondering if it's real. A rainbow doesn't have black and white. It wasn't just like that. Same as love. Same as us. There were times that i want to give her up. Not because my love did fade, rather, my love is too much. Too much that letting her go is the only option left for her to choose me without hesitation, without guilt, freed of lies. I want her to grow, to weigh things as it is. I want her to make me feel that being with me is her choice. I want her to realize that i am hers and that she have to surrender herself to me as well. I want her to love me because that is the way she feels and not because it was the safest way. Being with her is paradise. It was a mixture of colored pastel. It was too vibrant to explain. But at a sudden twist of downs and ups, we are shaking. Loving her has become my weakness. The weakening thought of losing her when I fuck up is too much to run me insane. I'm overreacting perhaps. But being with her, means walking in a narrow-road of heaven. There's no security, no assurance. One wrong move, and I'll be slipping away. Just in the never ending pain of darkness, of solitude, of self-struggle. Loving her has become my addiction. I couldn't get enough of it. But so they say, what's too much can cause harm. Maybe I'm loving her too much that she finds it hard to breathe when i'm around. But yes, it is just a wishful thinking; things that I'll surely not going to say to her because i will never ever earn the courage to say so. We are just nothing but a 'fateful coincidence.'
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