Time. That’s what I need but it seems to be flying by lately and I’m still not getting anywhere, at least that’s how it feels.
“How are you feeling today, Ava?” Anita asks me, crossing her legs as she sits in her white, leather chair. The chair sits a little higher than the couch I’m on, I don’t know whether that’s meant to symbolize something.
I huff and cross my own legs, staring at her.
She always starts with this question, to say I’m fed up of hearing it is an understatement. I know exactly how this is going to go, I’ll say I’m doing good and then she’ll raise her brow at me and I’ll tell her what happened yesterday and then she’ll just sit there while I spill my guts out to her and basically analyze myself.
She never offers much insight into anything, instead she just scribbles in her notebook and makes noises in the back of her throat.
Shrugging my shoulders, I look away deciding to avoid the question all together.
Making that annoying noise in the back of her throat, she then says, “Shall we start with what made you miss your Monday appointment?”
Rolling my eyes, I pick at a loose thread on the arm of the couch and whisper, “I didn’t know there was a new lecturer.”
“Okay,” she says, drawing the word out and making a note in her book. “How did you feel when you found out about the new lecturer?”
“I dunno.” I shrug again. “I panicked and tried to leave.”
“In what way did you panic?” She lifts her eyes to me when I don’t answer her straight away. I think she’s meant to be encouraging me to tell her but it doesn’t do what she intends, it makes me want to not say anything at all.
“I just felt like I couldn’t breathe,” I say, avoiding her stare.
“Then what happened?”
I look around her office, focusing on the paintings she has hanging on the walls. They’re all minimal with just a few splashes of paint in bright colors. It’s the only thing that has any color in this office, everything else is stark white and cold.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I look back at her. “I tried to leave and he... he...” I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes closed, not wanting to remember how he touched my arm or how much I had freaked out.
Tapping my finger on the arm of the couch three times and then another three with my other hand, I focus on my breathing and try to get the crawling sensation off my skin.
“Ava?” she asks, the concern in her voice obvious.
I shake my head at her and lift my hand up, telling her silently that I need a second.
“He touched my arm,” I whisper.
I hate the way that I sound, so weak and fragile, and I don’t want to be that any more. I want to be strong and confident.
“Okay,” Anita says in her annoyingly calm voice. I flick my eyes up to her and take in her inky black hair that’s cut into a sharp, short bob and her glasses that are perched on the end of her nose. “And how did that make you feel?”
I roll my eyes at her but also at myself. “Scared,” I choke out.
Rationally, I know that I don’t have anything to be scared of, the room had been full of people but that didn’t stop me from freaking out, from feeling like I was going to pass out in front of them all.
“And thinking back now? Do you feel differently?” she asks, her brows high on her head and her pen poised to write down whatever I say.
“Well... yeah,” I huff. Of course I did now that I’ve had space and been able to think about it. I know that nothing would have happened in that lecture hall but when you’re in a situation like that you don’t have a rational mind.
She nods and the room is silent, with the exception of the scratching of her pen against the paper, I shift in my seat and chew on my lip waiting for her to say something else.
“What will you take away from that situation?” she asks when she looks back up to me.
I look away again not wanting to tell her that I’d thought about dropping that class. Facing everyone and seeing him again wasn’t a possibility. I just couldn’t do it.
“Ava? I can see those wheels turning in your head,” Anita says, raising her brows again. I wonder if they teach you that look when you train to be a shrink because she has perfected it.
“What-”