"You're a good writer," she said to me.
I stared. Incredulous.
My gaze quickly switched to a corner. No I'm not. That was just a simple outline of my life. It was just random crap that I threw on the page, because you told me you wanted to know a little bit more about me. It's nothing. I'm not a great writer. Hell, during school, I was such a slow, lazy writer. I'm not creative.
"Thanks." I mumbled, staring at my hands.
"So what do you want to talk about?"
"I'm not sure. That's just a small outline of my life. I mean, does anything interest you in there?" It's not that interesting. "Do you have any questions that I should answer?"
"Why are you here?"
"My friends. They suggested I should look for a new therapist. I... want to get better?"
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