I'm in therapy and not liking my therapist. I wonder, "What am I doing here? Why am I doing this?" Hear myself complaining in a thin voice. Weary. "My life sucks. Sucks." I say it again for emphasis. "I don't want to be here." She's a therapist. She's heard that before. I think, "She's too cheerful. How could I have not noticed how cheerful she is?" She must realize she is being too cheerful because she stops interjecting comments and just looks at me. Attention: without rules, expectations or demands. I steady myself in the quietness and affection of her gaze. She has offered me the room of herself and plenty of chairs. I sit.
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