I met Izaak at the front door when he arrived, too ashamed to speak as I lead him upstairs. We entered my bedroom and his long legs immediately strode to the couch, ignoring the wooden chair I'd placed in the middle of the room, expecting a traditional otk spanking. He motioned for me to take a seat next to him.
Neither of us spoke for a moment until I looked up and our eyes met. "You have not answered anyone's phone call for almost two weeks."
Gulping, I hung my head. "I know. I've been in a depressive episode."
He was silent, processing what I'd just told him. "You were in a manic state last time I saw you."
I nodded, noticing that I wanted to get defensive and trick Izaak into feeling pity for me. I could recount past traumas and use psychiatrist jargon to make him think that I didn't actually deserve to be punished... to defend me against being vulnerable in front of him. But I didn't react to that desire, instead keeping a solemn expression, hands folded in my lap.
"
No comments:
Post a Comment