Gemotions

The air in the session room was thick with unspoken tension. Ben sat on the edge of the plush sofa, his body coiled. He had driven past the office, nearly turned around, countless times. Now, here he was, staring at a framed certificate on the wall - Emily, licensed therapist.

Emily, who’d stolen his favorite toy in kindergarten, who’d tripped him in the school hallway, now sat across from him, poised and ready to listen. Ben refused to meet her gaze. He focused on the intricate pattern of the carpet, the way the light fell on the polished wood of the floor.

"How are you feeling, Ben?" Her voice was a gentle murmur. He inhaled sharply, then let out a slow breath. He said nothing, simply leaned back further, but did not relax.