He had been divorced for many years. Admittedly, I initially felt awkward and a bit intimidated with our arrangement.

This man is old enough to be my father… and I’m a trainee… and he’s seeing me for therapy…?

The moon waxed and waned many times behind the blanket of grey clouds overhead. I progressed in my education; he became more self-reflective. We both learned from each other.

As Winter melted into Spring, his face brightened.

He had met a woman.

“I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” he said. A smile crossed his face as he looked at his feet. His sheepishness was cute.

“She’s got a great sense of humor. I laugh so much when I am with her. She’s beautiful. And very nice,” he continued, more to himself than to me.

“But I’m scared,” he confided. He rubbed his forehead with his calloused hand. “I’m scared of commitment. I don’t want to get hurt.”

He sighed.

“… which is totally normal,” I gently commented.

“Right. That is normal,” he repeated, looking up at me with that sheepish smile on his face again. His body began to quiver and, soon, his face was in his hands as he laughed at the situation, at himself, at this thing called love.