Careti Psychologist - My patient was me

Yesterday a patient came to my office and she sat calmly. I thought It was weird because I know her and she probabbly should had been crying. I even got prepared before she came with 2 boxes of clinex, one for the session with her, and the other one for the rest of the patients of the week. She had a strange look in her face... maybe because during the first seconds, I couldnt recognice any emotion in her facial expression. I dont know if she was trying to pretend she was fine, or if she was nervous... maybe she was just acting. She had her hands very relaxed, and her pose was straight but not rigid. She just stared at me seriously. Aparently she did not want to cry... she didnt want to let her feelings come out. We already knew each other very well and I didnt want to push her sharply into something she didnt want, because there was a chance that she could take it in the wrong way and awake the rage. Her feelings produced a heat in her inner self but depending on the escape valve, they could come out in several ways.... sadness, anger, nostalgy... and I didnt want to let her rage come out. While I was sitting in front of her, I decided to talk about any random thing.
But every time that I felt tempted to pronounce one of those words that - I certainly know they make my patients talk - I didn't dare. I didn't want to listen to her. I dont know how that could happen but I really didnt want to listen to what she had to say. I didn't want to know how she felt. 
We talked about life... and after a while, I asked her for an advice and I knew what she was feeling. I told her that something in particular had happened to me and I asked her to tell me the right thing to do in her opinion. throughout her advice I could observe many elements that caught my attention, because all her advices were a reflection of what she had once experienced. With my story I took her to many areas that were hard to understand, but in many of them she felt empathy; she knew what I was talking about. While she talked to me I could see her whole world wrapped in a package called "advice". But when the session was ended, I felt there was something missing. She never said what was the reason that made her come to see me, and I knew It the whole time but I never dared to ask. And she told me. I stared at her and asked her: What are we going to do? and In that exact moment, I didn't see her anymore. My patient was me.