me vs. therapy

'so if i understand you correctly anytime a friend, a group of friends or a romantic interest leaves your home you start to feel sad and empty?'

'it sounds kind of pathetic when you say it out loud.'

'a lot of things sound kind of pathetic when you say them out loud.'

'yeah, like "sir, can you get my underwear down from the flagpole please?"'

'uh?'

'nevermind. yes so that's how i feel. to this day. at the age of 37.'

'do you have any idea why?'

'yes. i figured it out a few years ago. finally.'

'and?'

'it's because of my best friend peter.'

'peter was your playmate growing up right?'

'yeah, from when i was 4 until i was 12.'

'and what does he have to do with your feelings?'

'all those years his family would drive up to the vacation house next door to our house on friday and leave on sunday. every week...for 8 formative childhood years.'

'so you think his leaving every sunday triggered these feelings of loss to appear?'

'yep. i'm sure of it. and the shitty thing is i know why i feel sad but i can't make it go away.'

'well, just because we know something doesn't always mean we can fix it.'

'that's shit.'

'yes, life is shit sometimes.'

'i feel like a lunatic. isn't there like, some techinque you can have me practice?'

'hmm...how about distracting yourself with activities when someone leaves?'

'that would involve focusing.'

'right. not your best feature.'

'i think i'm just going to have to live with it. like herpes.'

'when did you get herpes?'

'i don't have herpes.'

'i thought you just said you had herpes?'

'no, i was just saying that the feeling is going to stick around forever, like herpes.'

'are you sure this isn't your way of casually letting me know you have herpes?'

'i don't have herpes!'

'ok, but the more you get defensive the easier it is to believe you're lying.'

Stare.

Therapist stares back.

Stare.

Therapist stares back.

Stare.

Therapist stares back, says: 'you see, you can focus when you want to.'

'wow. it's not as hard as i thought.'

'now, go practice it please so we can find you a girlfriend and you can talk about something other than relationships in my office every week.'

Stare.

'well done, angela.'

‘how’s the whole running thing going?’

‘eh, it’s ok.’

‘what’s your routine?’

‘i like…get on the treadmill and run.’

‘how far?’

‘until i can’t breathe anymore. then i stop.’

‘i see. that seems like a good routine.’

‘well, it’s not really. but i hate running so at least i’m doing it in the first place.’

‘yes, running doesn’t seem pleasant.’

‘it’s not. it’s something i think we’re supposed to do only in the most dire situations.’

‘like if a bear is chasing us.’

‘exactly.’

‘so tell me, are those running shoes that you have on?’

Look down at shoes.

Look back up, say; ‘yeah, why?’

‘they’re quite…orange.’

‘i like bright colors.’

‘yes, of course.’

‘what? they make me look fast.’

Look over at Satan, Satan shakes head no. Look back at therapist.

Therapist says; ‘you don’t need to be defensive, i wasn’t making fun of you. i’ve just never seen that color before outside of a crayola box.’

‘they were on sale, ok?’

‘i’m sure they were.’

‘not because they’re orange, because they’re last year’s model.’

‘uh-huh. well, as long as they are comfortable then that’s all that matters.’

‘is this a metaphor for the whole i-only-date-attractive-women talk we had a while back?’

‘uh, no. but why would you think of that?’

‘i don’t know, maybe because you think i should care more about functional shoes rather than attractive shoes.’

‘hmm, i could see the connection.’

‘really?’

‘no. but then again you see life through a different tint than a lot of people.’

‘you’re calling me strange.’

‘i didn’t say that at all.’

‘you eluded to it.’

‘no i did not. you’re putting words in my mouth.’

‘did you know that i went bowling this weekend?’

‘no. because you didn’t tell me up until now.’

‘well i did.’

‘wow. i can’t imagine you venturing into a bowling alley considering the filth associated with the balls and shoes in one. who’s the girl?’

‘someone i’ve been dating. how’d you guess?’

‘because i can’t imagine you venturing into a bowling alley considering the filth associated with the balls and shoes there if it weren’t for a girl.’

‘i didn’t win.’

‘of course you didn’t. you were probably too drunk to see straight since you get loaded off one and i’m assuming you had more than that?’

‘why are you always right?’

‘because i went to school to be.’

‘it’s time for me to go.’

‘yes it is. and just in time because i was starting to see spots in my vision thanks to your shoes.’

‘you’re hilarious.’

'so angela, how's life?'

'my feet hurt.'

'because?'

'i've been running a lot.'

'why?'

'because i'm entered into this race in may and i'm chubby. i had to start training or else i'd get winded, stop and fall down midway through.'

'i see. that wouldn't be good.'

'no. especially considering there will be zombies chasing me.'

'um-hum. what do you mean, zombies?'

'you know, like...zombies. they're dead and they shuffle and they want to eat your face.'

'did you start taking any new medications?'

'no, i'm not taking drugs. it's a zombie race. people dress up as zombies and chase you around while you're racing.'

'oh. wow, that sounds...interesting.'

'oh. wow, that sounds...condescending.'

'no, no. i guess i just don't get into racing much. nor zombies.'

'suit yourself, it's fun though and i want to have fun.'

'and not be chubby.'

'right.'

'so aside from this interesing new hobby of yours, what else is new?'

'i shaved my legs last night.'

'oh, i see. now you're going to be difficult?'

'no. i mean why would i be difficult just because you think the zombie race is dumb?'

'angela, that's not what i said. can we move on?'

'uh-huh.'

'back to what else is new. anything you'd like to talk about?'

'i get to go to family disney in a few weeks!'

'family disney. is that the gay week or truely a family disney trip?'

'hey, that's funny! no wonder people make weird faces when i say that. it's a family disney trip. the only gay will be me.'

'that sounds nice. i bet you're going to have a great time.'

'i can't imagine i wouldn't. unless of course zombie disney characters attack us.'

'i think we need to start working on how to let things go.'

'i like holding on. it gives me leverage later on.'

'no angela, it gives you a lot of alone time.'

'would you give me a lot of alone time if i didn't let things go?'

'yes. unfortunately you pay me to be here so i can't leave.'

'that hurt.'

'no, i'm pretty sure it didn't. besides, i was only pulling your leg.'

'my non-hairy leg.'

'right, so i plan on hearing all about your trip when you get back.'

'if the zombies don't eat m....i mean, ok.'

'very good. keep practicing and you'll get there.'

'thanks therapist.'

'you're welcome angela.'

'what did you steal?'

'huh?'

'i said, what did you steal?'

'i don't understand the question.'

'there's a shape protruding out from under your sweater vest. it appears to be a box of some kind. tampons, granola bars or a 6-pack of soap?'

Look down. Look back up, say; 'well, would you look at that. where did that come from?'

'angela.'

'maybe it's an alien incubating.'

'angela.'

'yes?'

'what's on your chest?'

'boobs!'

'angela.'

'it's a monitor.'

'what kind of monitor?'

'a dell.'

'angela, what kind of monitor is on your chest?'

'it's a heart monitor.'

'why are you hooked up to a heart monitor?'

'my cardiologist made me.'

'why?'

'he wants to monitor my heart beat for 24 hours'.

'why?'

'to pay off his bmw.'

'no really, why?'

'because there's been some heart issues in the family and he wants to see if i'm going to die.'

'and?'

'so far i'm not dead.'

'great. you'll let me know if you do.'

'sure.'

'that's good. how's your job?'

'unfortunate.'

'that's not good.'

'yeah, but it's typical so not really worth noting.'

'anything going on that is worth noting?'

'i had a super awesome filet the other night with lumps of lobster meat on top!'

'fascinating.'

'you'd think so if you had one.'

'i'm pretty sure i wouldn't as i'm a vegatarian.'

'er, oh yeah. i keep forgetting that.'

'you forget a lot of things.'

'i blame my faulty heart.'

'you're ridiculous.'

'i heart you too.'

'how many times can you fit the word 'heart' into this session?'

'i don't know, but i'll give it my heartfelt effort.'

'i'm going to groan.'

'a hearty groan or more of a sigh?'

'angela?'

'yes?'

'please stop.'

'i heartily agree!'

'so angela, how is the new year treating you?'

'i haven't been arrested yet.'

'all-in-all not a bad way to start it out then.'

'that's what i thought.'

'did you make any resolutions?'

'yeah.'

'well?'

'i'm going to save for new boobs because mine are going to deflate here in a few years.'

'oh that's right you have implants. they fail?'

'i guess eventually. the surgeon was kind of vague on that point and i didn't press him since i didn't really want to talk myself out of getting them.'

'you're not much for practical.'

'that's for sure. you know what?'

'what?'

'chics just don't seem to be impressed with my boobs.'

'maybe that's because they come equipped with their very own.'

'maybe. but just once in a while i'd like a compliment.'

'i'm pretty sure boob aesthetics is something most women aren't concerned with. besides, from what i remember you told me that you acquired them for you, not for anyone else's opinion.'

'yeah i did. but a lot of people also acquire clothes for themselves too. that doesn't mean they wouldn't like to hear a compliment about their burnt sienna sweater vest.'

'you took color theory in college.'

'aced it.'

'uh-huh. well, don't hold your breath on the breasts. what else is new?'

'i've met a lot of donkeys on that online dating site you told me to avoid.'

'hmm. great. how's that going?'

'it's interesting actually. they all want to be friends.'

'before or after they meet you?'

'what's that supposed to mean?'

'nothing. it was just a question.'

'liar. your left eyebrow goes up when you say nothing and are lying about it.'

'i think you're making that up.'

'oh no. i'm not. you're trying to make me think i'm not as smart as i really am. that's why you wear those glasses too.'

'yes angela. i don't wear them to see clearly i wear them to convince you you're not as smart as me.'

'your left eyebrow is still up.'

'i think this year we need to concentrate on having you concentrate during conversations.'

'you don't think i do?'

'angela i'm quite sure no one thinks you do.'

'oh. maybe that's why women don't want to date me.'

'or maybe it's because you call them donkeys. either that or they're afraid your boobs are going to explode.'

'that's not funny.'

'no one wants to be awash in saline.'

'you're hilarious.'

'i took improv at my university.'

'congratulations. what do i need to do to concentrate on the conversation.'

'your first step is going to be listening.'

Stare.

'very good.'

Stare.

'ok, the staring is a little scary. practice blinking once in awhile and we'll talk about how you did when we reconvene.'

Nod.

'blink angela.'

Blink.