Hiding

I arrived at my therapist's office today in sunglasses. Well, I wasn't wearing them when I walked into his office, just when I arrived. Today was about hiding, and the sunglasses help. Without them, I feel as if anyone can look into my eyes and see...everything. Behind the sunglasses, I can hide the sadness, the pain, the hurt, the anger, the confusion...everything.

I took the sunglasses off before I went in his office...but I wanted to wear them all day long. I threw a blanket over me, partly to protect my exposed summer skin from the chill in the arctic air conditioned room...but mostly to hide.

"Are you hiding from me?", he asked. Yes. Yes, I was. Sometimes, I want to hide from him...from his eyes, his questions, from the way he knows just how to reach me. But who am I kidding? It's not him I want to hide from...it's me, of course.

I want to hide from what I see in the mirror he holds up...from the truth that remains at the bottom of the beaker after all the volatile emotions have evaporated.