"So it's interesting that your...symptoms, for want of a better word, have...diminished since you found a male companion."

I smiled at his description. It sounded like Noah was someone who escorted me to balls at the local village hall or something.

"So it may be that some of your issues stem from an inherent need to be wanted."

Hang on. This bit didn't sound right.

"...And now you've finally found someone who wants you...you feel validated."

My fists clenched. "It's not like that at all," I blurted out.

Dr. Ashley looked concerned. He shuffled up in his chair, making himself look professional again. "Don't worry, Poppy. It's quite normal."

Normal? Wasn't that word banned from therapy? Wasn't that word banned from modern society? You couldn't say the word "normal" any more. It was like the "I'm sorry, I'm sorry too" rule. You'd say the word "normal" and automatically everyone said "Yeah, but what is normal?" thinking they were really, really clever.

I could feel my temper bubbling far quicker than it normally does.

I made my voice sarcastic. "Oh, so it's normal, is it?" I sneered, scrunching up my nose. "It's normal for all women's problems to stem from needing the validation of men?"

He stayed calm, as usual, even though it was obvious I was about to get remarkably un-calm.

"I didn't say that, Poppy."

"You implied it."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

He put his pen down and sighed. "I'm not going to argue with you, Poppy."

"Do you really think that?" I realized my voice was breaking. "That I'm happy now, that I'm...mentally healthy now, just because I've got a boyfriend?"

He picked up the all-too-familiar box of tissues, pulled one out, and passed it to me.

I hadn't realized I'd started crying. Bloody hell. Almost every session.

I tried to regain control over my emotions, but the word "validated" kept bubbling up in my thoughts like a kettle of poison.

"Are you feeling better, Poppy?"

I nodded. "Yes thank you."

"Do you think you could try an exercise with me?"

Another nod.

His voice was soft now, soothing, like he was reading a bedtime story. "This boyfriend of yours...?"

"Noah."

"Noah? Alright. Now I want you to sit comfortably, relax, and close your eyes."

I did what he said.

"I just want you to slowly let yourself imagine that Noah is, for some reason, not able to be in your life...that you are never to see him again. That he has disappeared without warning..."

I leaned back into my chair and allowed myself to entertain the thought. Almost immediately my chest began to tighten, my breathing got shallow.

"Imagine waking up every morning knowing you will never see him again..."

I felt my eyes bulge in my sockets. I imagined it. I imagined waking up in my bed, the sun streaming through the window, to nothing. I imagined never being able to smell him again, never being able to see his smile. My throat caught. I imagined walking past his apartment knowing he was no longer in it. I imagined sitting at the top of Middletown Common remembering our first kiss, but it was now empty and we would never sit there again. I gasped for air.

"Careful, Poppy. Breathe. BREATHE."

But his voice seemed far away. My chest heaved, panic began to rise in my throat. I gulped for air but none came. I was choking. But all I could think of was Noah. And the pain. The pain of him not being with me for ever. There was darkness and I stumbled blindly into it. Falling...and falling... And far away I could vaguely make out someone shouting my name.

Sadness. There was unbelievable sadness. My stomach ached from it. My heart felt like someone had literally snapped it in half. I could hear screaming but I couldn't see anything. There was only darkness.

And then I came to.

"Poppy? Poppy? Can you hear me?"

Ouch.

Someone was lightly tapping my face. The darkness was replaced by confusion. Where the hell was I?

"Poppy? I think she's awake."

I became slowly aware that I had a body. I could feel my limbs again. They hurt. Wherever I was, it wasn't comfortable. I couldn't be in bed. Usually bed was comfier than this.

I wanted to open my eyes but the effort needed to do so was overwhelming. I kept them closed.

"Poppy? If you can hear me, wiggle your finger."

Wiggle? I could do that. I instructed my brain to wiggle my little finger and my brain obeyed. I felt it wiggle.

"You're back. Okay. Poppy, when you're ready, try and open your eyes. Take it slowly."

I opened my right eye first but the light hurt. I closed it again, took a breath, and tried one more time. It stung but I kept it open and carefully opened my other eye. I couldn't see anything at first. Just a blur. But the blur became a face. A face I hadn't seen before. It was a tough-looking woman's face. If I was going to be honest about it, a butch woman's face.

"Who are you, please?"

She just laughed. "Your patient is back with us, Dr. Ashley."

Dr. Ashley? Was he here as well?

I turned my head. Ouch. It hurt. Then Dr. Ashley came into focus. He was squatting on the floor. That was odd. I shuffled to get comfortable but couldn't move my body. I was being pinned down by something. Hey! It was the butch lady. She was holding me down.

"Careful now," butch lady said. "Don't try to move just yet."

"Poppy?" Dr. Ashley's voice was even softer than his bedtime-story one. "Do you know where you are?"

"I'm not comfortable."

"Sorry about that. Do you know where you are?"

I turned my head it hurt again and surveyed the room. Dim recognition dawned and got stronger. I recognized the nondescript paintings, the big chairs and the box of tissues.

"We're in your office," I told him, pretty proud of myself.

"Yes we are. Do you know what happened?"

I shook my head.

"You fainted, Poppy. I think you had a panic attack and it caused you to lose consciousness. You're fine but you might've bumped your head when you fell off the chair. I didn't get to you in time and I'm sorry about that."

Fainted?

And with that extra piece of information, all the memories came back to me. Of the appointment, of Dr. Ashley, of thinking about Noah, and he was gone...gone...

"Noah?" I asked, worried.

"It's fine, Poppy. It was just an exercise, remember?"

Relief flooded through me. Of course! The exercise. It wasn't real. Noah was still here. He was still mine. I felt warmth creep through my veins, making me feel strong.

"Mary, get her up, would you? I think she's feeling better."

The butch lady held me under my armpits to pull me up and set me down on the chair.

"Thank you, Mary. I think I can take it from here."

"Make sure she drinks that sugar water," Mary said.

I looked at the table. There was a glass next to the tissues. I picked it up and took a few sips. It tasted good, much nicer than usual water.

Mary left and we sat in silence. I sipped at the water, confused. "What happened?"

"I told you. You fainted."

I knew that much. "But why?"

"You tell me, Poppy."

The cool leather of the chair felt good against my skin. I slumped into it. I thought back to the idea of Noah leaving just reminding myself made my heart start thumping again.

"Noah. You asked me to imagine Noah not being in my life."

"I did."

"...And I passed out."

"You did."

I pressed my hand to my face it was wet. I'd been crying. I hadn't even noticed.

"Well, that's not normal, is it?"

"I don't like the word 'normal' in this room, Poppy."

"Hang on. You used it just a moment ago! Hypocrite."

Dr. Ashley smiled. "And I see you're feeling better already."

"You did say it." He had. I distinctly remembered him saying it.

"Perhaps I did."

"You definitely did."

I smiled to myself, but the enormity of what had just happened made the smile disappear.

"What does it mean, Dr. Ashley?" I felt ashamed and in disbelief. Had my feelings for Noah really become so out of control so quickly? Was he really responsible for my panic attacks stopping? Because I now felt validated?

I felt sick.

"It means I want to up our sessions to twice a week."

The week before the big gig, my English class had to go on a trip to London. As part of our World War I module, Ms. Gretching made us plod round the Imperial War Museum rather than actually teach us stuff for the exam. Typical. And Frank and I were therefore forced to spend the entire day together.

On the train up, things got weird.

I was looking out of the window while Frank pretended to read a broadsheet newspaper.

"You're not fooling anyone," I muttered, watching sheep and fields streak by.

Frank looked up and I could see his confused face reflected in the glass. "Huh?"

"Your newspaper. You trying to come across all caring-about-the-world. I know for a fact you've only read the sports page and have been trying to understand that double page about the economy for twenty minutes. Stop posing."

Frank folded the paper up. "I wasn't posing."

"Yes you were."

"Okay...maybe I was a bit."

"Told you."