Going to see a counselor was not his idea. He knew he had some things he needed to work out. The harder he tried to work them out, the tighter of a hold they seemed to have on him. While sitting in the waiting area he was thinking if this was even worth his time any longer. He had her now. He is progressing in moving on in life. That was the goal was it not?
Should he tell his therapist about his girlfriend during this visit? It was still strange for him to admit that he has a girlfriend. But they had talked about it and both agreed that they are boyfriend and girlfriend.
His therapist, an attractive lady just a few years younger than him, was very professional and very stern. She would not allow him to get away with any half answered question or his attempt to hide any deeper within himself. He hated the continuous scab peeling that happened, but was happy when the fresh area was allowed to breath. Plus the pleasure after the pain was always worth the slow peel.
The session started the same way. How does he feel, has he been journaling, does he still feel like he is building walls, has he reached out to make friends and does he take time for himself.
Good, yes, yes, sort of and kinda.
The answers rolled off of his tongue with no effort. They were the same type of questions he is asked by everyone that talks to him.
He was ready to answer the next round of questions with his just add water answers when he noticed that she had stopped writing and was quiet. No questions, no shuffling of papers and no movement.
He raised his eyes from their normal view of his lap and hands to look at her. She was was looking at him. Her pen lifted to her cheek, her lips closed and her eyes on his. It appeared that he could see a smile in her eyes.
"Sort of?" She asked.
"I am sorry?" He replied with a slight shake of his head.
"I asked if you have reached out to make new friends and you said 'Sort of'. Each visit, you say yes. I have always known that when you answer that question, you answer it in the way you think I want to hear. You have finally answered it in the way I needed to hear. With truth."
"I have been truthful! I have thought about trying to go meet friends. Does that not count?" He said a little too quickly. He then sat back and slumped in his chair. Chiding himself for basically admitting he had been trying to push one over on her the many times she had asked.
Man, she is good. She actually listens to me. He thought.
He looked back up to her and saw that she was still looking at him. She was looking at him in the same way she did before letting him know he had lied to her. No judgment, no accusations and no hurt.
Well, here it goes. He thought to himself. I might as well tell her now.
"I have met a new friend. She is someone that is very dear to me. We have become close and we have been spending a lot of time together."
That was not too bad, he thought to himself. It actually felt good to not hide something in his life for once. An emotion he allowed to escape. A part of him that he considers good has been exposed to the world now.
As he walked out of the session he felt good. Almost happy if you will. Someone else knows that he has met someone. His therapist knows that he is no longer hiding his life from everyone. This is one other person besides her that he is allowing to know more of him.
He met with his girlfriend almost every day. He took her out to dinner, a movie, putt putt golf and even walked hand in hand along the canal. It was during the canal walk he decided to kiss her. He had battled with himself the entire week whether or not he should push the relationship.
It is a kiss. He told himself. A way to let her know that he likes her and has feelings for her. It goes above telling her that he thinks of her all of the time and actually showing her that he wants to be close to her.
That was all of the reasoning he needed. It has been too long since he had experienced a kiss. Too long to feel the affection of a beautiful woman. Too long to know that someone was thinking of him too.
During their walk, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. When he lowered their hands he felt her squeeze his hand tighter and lean her head on his shoulder as they walked. She had accepted the kiss on the hand and returned the affection. He had to keep looking down to see if his feet were still on the ground because he felt he was floating in the clouds.
After he pulled up to her apartment, he put the car in park then reached over to hold her hand again. He noticed that she instantly put her hand in his and smiled. He was happy. For the first time in a long time, he was happy. He turned to her and leaned towards her and was excited to see her do the same.
They kissed. Then kissed again.
It was so natural and wonderful. The connection and joy he felt was indescribable. He walked her to her door and they kissed again.
"Thank you." He said
"Thank you for what?" She replied after she unlocked her door.
"For being you. For making me smile."
"You are welcome. You know you deserve to smile more. You should be out in the world and let everyone see you!" She said as she looked in directly in his eyes.
He lowered his eyes and then his head. After taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly he looked back in her eyes. He pulled her to him and kissed her. A long kiss while placing his hands on her waist. He felt her wrap her arms around his neck and return the kiss.
After they pulled away, he stared in her eyes. He allowed her eyes to swallow his soul. He felt wanted by her. She wanted to see him. She wanted to walk next to him and hold his hand.
"I am trying. I really am. You are helping me. A lot. I want to be out in the world and be seen with you. You make me smile and I think I like that a lot." He said then gave her another quick kiss.
He met with his counselor the next day.
Good, yes, no, yes and yes he answered with a smile on his face.
"What a change I see!" She said as she folded her hands in her lap and looked at him. A gentle smile formed on her face as he looked back at her with a large smile on his.
"Would you like to tell me about the changes in your answers?" She said as she sat back in the chair.
"I have a girlfriend!" He blurted out even before her back touched the chair.
"You did mention that at our last meeting. Well, you alluded to it." Did you two acknowledge the relationship as being a boyfriend and girlfriend to one another?
"Well, yeah, but we kissed. We held hands and we kissed." His left hand began to fumble with the hem of his shorts while he held the right hand out towards her. As if he were proving the hand he was presenting her was the one that held her hand.
"That was good for you then? You have progressed in your relationship to the point of physical contact."
"It was very good. I mean, her lips on mine. But, uh, but, we held hands. We gave up part of each other and held hands. I liked kissing. A lot! But she actually reached over to hold my hand!" At this time, both of the hems on his shorts legs were inline with one another and perfectly flat.
"Holding hands means more to you than kissing?" She said leaning forward a little.
"I cannot say it means more. It does mean a lot to me. It means so much!" He looked away from her and looked at the window. His smile had not changed.
She picked up her notebook and poised her pen to write. "Would you mind telling me why it is so important to hold hands?"
"Because, she is giving me part of herself. She trusts me to hold onto her and protect her. She trusts me so much that she knows that I can protect her with one hand if I need to. I can pull her into me from danger with one and protect her with the other! I prove to her that I trust her by giving her my hand. She can hold it and pull me to see the things she wants to see. Because she wants to share them. Share them with me. She knows that I will want to see them because it is something she likes."
He noticed that his breathing rate had increased and he began to daydream about holding her hand as they were walking.
"I noticed in your journal from last week that you did not mention that you had held hands. So, this is new in the relationship?"
As he looked back at her, she noticed that he appeared to blush.
"Yes it is. She really likes me. I like it."
He left this weeks journal with her and picked up the one he left from last week. As he was walking to his car, he felt like whistling. So he did. A pure and joyous tone escaping from his lips. The lips that touched hers. Maybe she unlocked the pure joy within him and he could no longer contain the feeling. He had to express his feelings and the sweet sound of a whistle was the best way his body could express that feeling.
Each week his journaling became easier. He felt comfortable expressing his emotions on paper. At first, handing it to her during the counseling sessions was scary. He was handing a part of his hidden life to her. However, when the next week arrived, she treated him with the same courtesy and respect that she did at their first session. He felt like she was there to help him and keep him focused. He was feeling like he can trust her and she was there to support and not judge.
Their relationship was growing. He told her that they have become physical and that he is using protection. "No need to worry" he told her. "I am not ready to be a daddy when I have so much more of me to figure out."
As he sat across from her, she noticed he kept touching his bottom lip or drawing it back into his mouth.
"I see that you have a cut on your bottom lip. Are you ok? Did you fall?"
She leaned in and took a closer look then said, "Oh, it looks like you bit your lip!"
