Poem.
Couple's therapy.
My boyfriend and I-I mean,
Anxiety and I have been going
to 'Couple's therapy' together.
We would go every thursday's at 6.
There were some days I wake up,
having to go to work or to school.
His palms are pressed against my
forearms and nails digging in my
forearms and he'd whisper: don't
go, it's too early. Come back.
As if he was afraid, I would only
excape and leave him alone.
After getting out the shower, I
didn't smell like his afterscent
of panic attacks and the harsh
smell of sweat from those nighmares..
Our session at Couple's therapy is
exactly an hour and we would say
the same topics that we are having
problem with and it's usually the
same issues, it's been on and off in
high school. It was worse a month
ago, when Anxiety began getting
worse and out of hand and I couldn't
breathe, being around. I feared, walk
-ing around and having the attacks of
panic and looking into his eyes would
be the last thing I would see.
He sits in the chair nervously, saying
the exact thing as I am saying. His
long fingers tucked under the pockets
of his jeans and my throat hurts.
She asks me if I have seen my friends
in a while, but I answer as if it was known.
"Not in a while, it's common to not see
your friends a lot when you're dating right?"
She shook her head and signs the paper
with a note, she roughly said: time's up.
Anxiety would only growl fine and slam
the door behind us as if she upsetted him.
Our therapist tells us that there were improve
-ments and I think about the both of us
being together for a long time but..
I end up getitng more far away from him.
His hands and palms feels distant when
i move away from him, I get up easily.
Our therapist thinks I am only with him
because of how my father left, or how
I was hurt or how or how, or how and so on.
But it made Anxiety mad and he put it out
on me when we gotten home alone.
I am getting more independent, he's been
packing up his past memories with me away
and storing it in some luggages as if it was
that many and it was that many. He tells me,
I would be an empty house without a lock,
without the security of a person's love and I
stare at him.I cave in. Sometimes I think
and believe he is right and I was wrong.
Last week, I put on some clothing of confidence.
It covered the flaws he pointed out months ago,
I didn't think of him.
It was all me and really it was me.
I thought of me.
Sweden*