Gemotions

He had the appointment card clutched in his hand, fingers white around the edges. Michael hadn't slept well in days. The news had been a gut punch: Daniel, his tormentor from middle school, was now a licensed counselor. The irony was almost unbearable. He felt a profound sense of… something heavy lodged in his chest.

He envisioned the countless times he’d been shoved, ridiculed, and humiliated. A cold dread washed over him. He almost didn't go. He almost turned the car around and drove home. But his current state of anxiety had forced his hand.

The door clicked shut behind him. Daniel looked up, his expression unreadable, and gestured towards the chair. "So, Michael," he said softly, "what brings you in today?" Michael stared at his hands, then at the carpet, then back at his hands.