ASHAL
"Are you angry right now, Mr. Rollins?" Dr. Welsh asks. She is a good-looking woman in her early forties with a sophisticated bent. She sits across from me, one leg crossed in front of the other with a pen and book in her hands. While laying on my back on the tuxedo sofa, I squeeze my stress ball harder and exhale deeply.
"I think so. A little bit."
"What are you angry about right now?"
"It's not what, it's who." I shut my eyes to pretend I am talking to myself in an empty room where no one can judge me, hoping that way I can express myself better.
"I am angry at the woman I love. We um…we attended a birthday party together. Before that, she promised me that she wouldn't try socializing with certain people at the party. I left her by herself for a few minutes during the party to handle some things and when I got back to her, she was exactly where she said she'll be."
"Keep going."
