Talk on, please?

“So how much have you written in the past year, Sia?”
“Not much, Ashar. Just the occasional blogging apart from daily journaling.”
“Uh-huh?”
I Smiled.

“What’re you thinking, Sia?”
“Nothing.”
“Something. Saying nothing would be a lie.”
Pregnant pause…

“Sia, May I know?”
“Yeah… Um… No!”
“Embarrassed of the thought?”
“Juvenile thought.”
“Well, if you think its juvenile, it’s okay to be embarrassed of it.”
“Okay?”
“But if you need help, there’s no shame in asking for it. I know the ego will stir while asking for help; you’ll feel silly and worry if you’re judged. And I know you know all this, but I think we all need the occasional affirmation that feeling doubtful about one’s thoughts is normal.”
“So does that mean you won’t judge if I share?”
“How can I promise you when I can’t control my own thoughts? But trust me on this; I don’t want to judge you. I want to hear you and help if I can. But this isn’t me speaking. These are the values my elders passed on to me that are showing me the light. And after hearing you, I may change my mind. How? That I cannot say, but all I can do for you is to promise you I’ll try and be as supportive as I can, that, if you want to share with me.”
Silence fell.
“Should I be proud of myself that I’m being honest to goodness with you? I feel funny. But you know what, Sia? I despise counselors who promise to never divulge nor judge. They’re humans first, counselors later. And I’m sure they talk of their clients to their spouses, friends and colleagues… They spout out details and save the identity and are eternally proud of themselves. What a noble profession!”
I nodded. My throat knotted.
“Ashar, are you free for the day?”
“I don’t have plans for the day. What can I do for you?”
“Sit with me? Uh… that look makes me nervous.”
“I’ll sit with you but what’re we doing?”
“Sitting… and I could make you noodles and there’s some orange juice.”
“Wow. I’m up for food.”
“Uncertain.”
“What’s uncertain, Sia?”
“Future.”
“Spot on! You seem inspired by me already, my love.”
“Ha-ha. You sit here while I go and make noodles for us?”
“I’ll come with you. As much as I like for people to cook for me and serve me in bed, what will I do all alone in your room? Besides, your roommate might just walk in to find a male stranger on her roommate’s bed. That’d be weird.”
“You’re a self-help guide!”
“Nay. I’m big hearted with words, you see? I give more than I can take. To be precise, I talk to good listeners. I’m a pathetic debater and if someone who is as much or more talkative than me sits with me, I shut up like a chicken!”
“Talk on, please?”