self reflection

The Healing Horror of the Apocalypse (Copy)

The Healing Horror of the Apocalypse (Copy)

Our counselor sat behind his oak desk, a wide smile peeking out from under his white mustache. “Where do I know him from?” I asked myself. His gentle eyes reassured me. Angel and I slid into the love seat facing him. It was my first counseling session. Angel’s, too. We were here for pre-marital counseling.

My anxiety grew as I placed where I knew him from. I had taken his daughter to winter formal a few years back. My heart rate rose a bit. Any chance of genuine transparency went out the window with that connection.