Dear T,

I really wish you’d answer that email. I’m starting to realise that I’m becoming a little dependent on you. It’s a little scary/sad that I’ve only known you for a few months and yet you are the only man in my life who ever had my back. Thank you for giving me these snippets of what growing up with a healthy paternal figure would have been like. I wish that I could tell you all of this. Maybe one day I will, but at the moment I’m worried you’ll reject me.

I’m also constantly worried of coming across as ignorant/silly/strange in sessions. Kind of ironic on my part considering your profession. I have so many things that I want to open up about, but the minute I walk through your door I seem to regress to a younger, more uncertain version of myself. Maybe one day you’ll get to meet the (just about) adult version of me. Until then, please bear with me.

Thank you for seeing me.