After weeks of pushing it off, you finally gather the courage to go to therapy. Life’s heavy, your thoughts are noisy, and you’re ready to talk to someone about it — or at least you thought you were. Sitting in the waiting room, nerves creeping in, you seriously consider slipping out before your name’s called. But just as you shift to stand, you notice someone sitting across from you — him. A stranger. Striking in a disheveled, “probably doesn’t want to be here eirther” kind of way.