Waiting On You [18+]

71

"And how did that make you feel?" She asked, looking at Naomi sat across the room

"The rain?" Naomi questioned with a smile, "it makes me feel peaceful. I already said this" Naomi laughed at her therapist.

It was times like this she couldn't understand the reason for therapy because she just felt stupid for talking about her feelings. She felt she'd already been over this, why was her therapist asking these intricate questions?

"No, Naomi how did it make you feel?" Her therapist repeated herself slowly as she stared at the younger girl, sat cross legged on the sofa, subtly playing with her fingers

"Calm...peaceful-" she began to list off when her therapist interrupted her and called out a word which stopped her in her tracks

A word that made her think.

A word that she hadn't even think to associate with the rain before

"Safe?" Her therapist questioned as Naomi stayed quiet, not even wanting to move a single bone in her body because her therapist could see right through her. She knew if she made any sudden movement - her therapist would know, she would just know she got her. She knew her. She understood her.

And she could see everything Naomi was hiding

"Naomi, does the rain make you feel safe?" Her therapist repeated because she hadn't had a response from Naomi after she mentioned the word safe in relation to the rain.

Looking down at her fingers, Naomi couldn't help frown at how badly she was playing with them. Inhaling and exhaling a deep breath, she flattened her palms and smoothed them out onto her thighs because of how clammy they'd gotten.

Was it hot in here suddenly?

"Naomi?" Her therapist called out, trying to get her attention as she watched the girl reach for her phone to distract herself, until she remembered it was on the coffee table in the middle of the room to avoid distractions

"Naomi, does the rain make you feel safe?" Her therapist asked once again as Naomi's slowly dragged her gaze up from the coffee table where her phone lay, all the way to the her

Naomi knew the woman was trying to help, she really did, but sometimes when she asked questions like this, Naomi hated therapy. She hated that someone could see past the walls she spent a long time building. She hated that someone could strip her bare, down to the bone after merely a few minutes, hours or sessions because of the intricate questions they asked.

And, the funny thing was - they weren't even intrusive questions because my god were they far past that, but it was the little ones. The ones that got you to stop and think. The ones that transported you back into that time, that mindset, that moment where whichever memory it was, was happening and to stop and think. To stop and realise maybe, just maybe it impacted her current self. It may of impacted her a lot or maybe a little. But it was done. It was done and it effected her somehow, some way in a very particular way.

"Yes" she whispered, after a moment, "Yes - it makes me feel safe" she exhaled heavily and the weight which had been lifted off her shoulders was unmistakable

And here we go again with the more little questions. The important questions.

"And why do you think that is?" Her therapist asked as she tilted her head to the side

It wasn't a patronising move, but once again Naomi couldn't help but be irked by it. She couldn't help but feel the anger in her rise at something she didn't even know. She didn't know why she was getting so angry. It was as if...

As if she had a million emotions all built up and her therapist was trying to unmask those layers, letting out those imbedded emotions. Trying to get Naomi to let go.