Page 80 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

“Good morning, Noah.” He smiled politely and stepped aside. “You’re right on time.”

He looked youthful for a man in his late forties. Standing only an inch taller than me, he still wore simple brown suits. Grey had moved to America with his parents when he was twelve years old. His father was British, which explained the surname. They emigrated from Denmark, and he had a tough upbringing. Money was tight and expectations were always high in his family. But he turned out just fine. There was a hint of a Danish accent in his speech, and the way he spoke was always soothing to the ears and relaxed me whenever we tried to tackle my problems. His face was clean shaven. The only difference in his appearance from when I’d last seen him was his light caramel hair—he had grown it out a little longer.

A pair of hazel eyes looked back at me. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

I stepped inside and scanned the room. His office was very spacious—almost like a library, with bookshelves surrounding the walls, especially the second level. It was covered in books from corner to corner. The design was unique. I didn’t feel claustrophobic. There were floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the space with the curtains drawn back, and he had repainted the walls.

“Love the new color,” I commented while I walked over to the window.

“Thank you. I find that red really adds warmth to a space and makes it more …” He paused. “… inviting.”

I nervously shoved my hands in my pockets and turned around, smiling cordially at him. He had a huge brown desk resting on a red oriental rug, followed by two teal armchairs, positioned across from each other in the center of the room. That’s where he normally sat with his patients. Typically, I preferred to lie down on the black lounging sofa that was across from the windows. I was glad he hadn’t replaced it.

“Have a seat.”

No, I didn’t want to sit down. I needed to pace and keep moving. Sitting down was next to impossible for me at the moment.

“Do you mind if I stand and stretch my legs a bit?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, Noah.” Grey seated himself and pulled out a notepad.

“Do you need to update my file or anything? I’ve had a change of address since you last saw me.”

“No need for that. Your assistant, Diane, already took care of it.”

Right—he was always great at remembering names. There was no way of stalling or delaying the inevitable.

“You appear nervous,” he said. “Relax. Remember the Vipassana breathing technique I taught you.”

I paced around the room and discovered that it was only making me crazier, so I lay down on his comfy lounger, stared up at the ceiling, and closed my eyes.

“Inhale…” Dr. Grey said, “exhale… Very good. Just relax your mind, focus your breathing on expanding your lungs, and listen to my voice.”

I stole a few minutes to breathe and empty my head of any sort of conscious thought, so that all I was focusing on was the measure of my breath.

“Do you feel more relaxed now, Noah?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.”

I was waiting for further instruction, when something suddenly flashed in front of me. I could see myself inhaling cold air, my breath becoming visible upon exhalation. There was a dark tunnel ahead, and I was walking right through it. Alone.

“Would you like me to turn off the music?”

“No, I don’t mind. I like it. Who’s the composer?”

“It’s one of my favorite operas.Lakmé,the Flower Duet, in Act One.”

Lakmé,of course—now I remembered.

“But, we’re not here to discuss my taste in classical music. Tell me what is troubling you, Noah.”

I opened my eyes and stared off at space. How the hell was I going to talk about this?

“I think I’m going crazy.”

Doctor Grey waited, possibly thinking that I was going to “elucidate” more, but I didn’t.

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