Nothing to say

The air presses heavy on her chest, causing her to breathe slowly and with effort.

The same goes for him, as he draws in a deep breath and instinctively clasps his stomach. He had once shared with her the reason behind this motion - it is a way for him to experience a deep connection. He can sense her emotions as if they were his own, feeling the tightness in her chest and the nervous unease in her stomach, which exposes their profound vulnerability.

There is a strong aura saturating the room, conveying an atmosphere laden with pressure, deceit, anxiety, dread, and past wounds.

It resembles a somber blanket enveloping her, a damp mist settling upon her once so light thoughts, rendering every belief burdensome and nearly unbearable.

The exercise for this week's therapy session is to express a variety of words describing how she perceives herself as an individual.

For her , his is the unthinkable.

A decade’s worth of unspoken words and suppressed emotions and now all of a sudden she shall speak?

Now she is supposed to articulate her feelings and their underlying reasons?

How can one even find the words what being trapped feels like?

How can she utter these thoughts without them solidifying into something official?

Once spoken, they become reality, irreversible.

She has nothing, yet so much to say. She remains silent.

She nervously unfolds a piece of paper in her hands, only to refold it the next second. The only sound in the room is the faint hum of a bee, desperately seeking an exit against the window pane. Sunlight pours in through the windows, casting its rays across the floor.

He cautiously observes her making sure not to convey any impatience. He is acutely conscious of the courage it took her to come here. His curiosity about the chosen words lingers, but he refrains from hurrying her.

They lock eyes and he offers a reassuring smile, intuitively detecting her racing thoughts.

With trembling hands she carefully places the piece of paper on the glass table between them.

Though these words are left unspoken, she experiences a sense of exposure, as if stripped bare, labelled and filled with apprehension.

What impression will he form of her?

She abruptly averts her gaze and shifts slightly to the side, lost in her overwhelming thoughts.

“Where do we go from here? Where will this lead us? What else will we unravel? What if I cannot be fixed? Will I break? Will I break for good? Will he lose faith in me just as I’ve lost all faith in myself?”

He waits. Waits for her to cease doubting. He gets up, and opens the window, gently guiding the bee towards the opening, before sitting down again.

He delicately unfolds the sheet of paper and begins to read. He does not dare to verbalize those damaging words, avoiding any further weight in the air. His duty is to make her feel safe.

“Ruined…useless…limited…difficult…hideous…heavy…naiive…hurt…aabused…misunderstood…cheap…broken….fearful….tired…selfish…too much… predictable….lonley…alone…stupid… disturbing…weak…damaging….hollow…failed…lost…used…tagged… ungrateful…blamed…fake…speechless…at fault…guilty...NOT ENOUGH”

His heart feels heavy, flooded with her struggle and emotions of loss, doubt and obscurity. He takes it all in, aiming to make her steps on this earth lighter, enabling her to reach through the divide, so she can finally harness light instead of darkness.

He draws another deep breath and directs his look toward her, patiently waiting for her to eventually glance at him.

She discerns kindness in his eyes which seem to reject every hurtful word she had penned and concurrently emanating all the opposites of those harsh self-expressions.

She feels completely understood and beyond any doubt for the first time in a while...safe!

She begins to soften, finally leaning into this moment of healing.

The alarm sounds. The time is up.