Therapy was going well... too well. (Long, pitiful rant)

I used to frequent this prostitute that was hot and so many times I had amazing sex with her. But I was getting overly attached (obviously), and some setbacks in our "relationship" led me to distance myself from her. It's been about 2.5 months since I last had sex (I know that's nothing compared to virgins, but lay off, I've never had non-prostitute sex).

Anyway, so I'm feeling pretty terrible about my desires and my loneliness, so I decide that I might as well try some therapy again. I start going to a therapist near my house -- a cute, petite, vaguely boyish woman somewhere in her early 30's (for the record, I'm 20). It's evident nothing good is going to come from this, but my foolish heart urged me in that direction, and I didn't sober up fast enough to stop it.

I had been to another therapist before. It was a guy who barely ever talked, and even though I enjoyed spilling my pathetic guts in front of a stranger, I didn't think twice of it when we had to stop because he travelled to Europe for 6 months. So I get to this woman not expecting too much. But right at the beginning I realize she participates much more, talks back to me and even gives me opinions and interpretations on things I say.

So I tell her about my life and situation: that I've never kissed a girl (who's not a prostitute), that I feel awfully lonely etc. We interact and our dynamic is pretty good: I make jokes and she laughs, I recite poetry, we speak so friendly... But I'm dreadfully familiar with the motto: friendly, not friends.

We only had 3 meetings, and as I'm walking to my driving lessons one day I get a clear idea in my head that I must stop going to her. I could feel very obviously in me that some strong feelings were starting to grow. I looked forward to our meetings, I planned what I was to say, I memorized relevant poems, I ...... We had, due to scheduling difficulties, established that we'd meet bimonthly. However one Sunday (we met on Mondays) she emailed me saying we could meet that following day instead of waiting another week, and gosh, that brightened my mood more than I'm willing to admit.

So, as I have plenty of experience in this impossible love business, I realized that I clearly needed to stop. Once that thought formed in my head, though, and set its foot down and refused to leave, I felt such a continuous sharp pain in my heart. It really hurt me to let go of that stupid hope that somehow maybe we could grow close. But I knew what I had to do, so I sent her a really short email just saying I didn't want to go anymore and apologizing. She responded quickly saying it was ok. Then I cried my eyes out for a couple minutes.

I've had some great academic success lately, and my family is really proud of me, and I'm here biting into a pillow hoping that my mom doesn't hear me cry. I hate this. I hate this I hate this I hate this. Why must these stupid feelings get complete control over my life and mood? I have things I need to do but instead I just wallow about all day thinking about how I want love and affection.

Also, tfw you realize it's growing more probable each day that your life will not end due to natural causes.

TLDR: grew quickly attached to cute therapist, had to stop, cried.