Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Mark’s back as he sat in the plush armchair. The office was exactly as he expected a therapist's office to be: muted colors, soft lighting, and a framed picture of a generic mountain scene. What he hadn't expected was *who* was sitting behind the desk. Chad. Chad Henderson, the bane of his existence for a solid six years, from the sandbox to the bus stop. The boy who’d tied his shoelaces together and pushed him into the mud.

He felt his jaw tighten. He wanted to get up and leave, to turn tail and run. Instead, he forced a smile.

“So,” Chad began, his voice calm and professional, “What brings you in today, Mark?” Mark stared at Chad. The question felt loaded, dripping with irony. He took a deep breath. How could he possibly explain his crippling fear of failure to the very person who’d always ensured he felt that way?