Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring before his eyes. It was a simple invitation: "Welcome to your first session. Daniel Harding, PhD." He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The past was an old wound, and seeing that name, after all this time, was like someone ripping off the bandage.

He got up from his desk and walked around his apartment, unable to sit still. Every noise, every shadow, seemed to amplify the tension coiled in his chest. He was going to therapy. He needed it. But facing Daniel, the boy who had made his life a misery, was an unbearable thought.

He pressed his palms against his temples, attempting to calm himself, trying to quiet the chaotic thoughts swirling in his head.