Father would faint if he knew I was visiting a therapist. William, however would turn into a mother hen. The man sitting in front of me was scribbling something on his notepad before he looked up to face me, a polite smile on his face and I could tell he was the age of my Father. I swallowed nervously, my fingers shaking.
No matter where you go, why does talking about our emotions scares us so much? No matter if the person is known or a stranger, letting our emotions out is as scary as sitting on a deserted island.
"Hello, Miss Burton. I am Ronny McFadden, your therapist. You may call me Ronny. How are you doing?" His smooth voice eased my anxiety as I smiled in answer.
"Fine, I guess?"
"You guess?" He asked, raising a brow up and I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. You have to say th
