Let my confessions take you for a ride...
3 o'clock. My attention shifted from the - what seemed to be - hundreds of plaques and awards, degrees and certificates scattered across each oak wall of the office. Of course, the office was meant to feel more like a lounge. A living room perhaps, but I knew exactly what it was. The tick... tock... tick... tock of the second hand grew increasing louder as it passed each number, irritating me. I contemplated grabbing my shit and heading for the door, but I couldn't. I was bound to be here, to sit here, and wait for Dr. Thomas. My body grew exhausted at the thought.
I wondered if my own patients felt like this each time they had to wait for my arrival. Although my reasoning was much more... complex, I was here for the same purpose: to confess my troubles, worries and doubts to a total stranger. Dr. Matthew Thomas. As if on cue, the lanky, 6-foot-something psychiatrist entered the "office", sporting a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Gordon. Sorry for making you wait, I was caught up in another session." Dr. Thomas immediately offered a hand. I nodded my head and smiled back (genuinely?), shaking his hand firmly - professionally. "It's not a problem, really. I was admiring your achievements," I confessed, my hazel hues darting to one of the many awards. "You're quite the successful man."
Did he blush? Dr. Thomas let out a hearty laugh and waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head as well. "No, no. That's ten long years in college on a wall." Ten years? Ignoring the headache I had since that morning, I tried calculating his age. "Ah, I see. Well, it's impressive nonetheless." He nodded his head and rounded his desk, setting down my file. My file. Oh man, what happened to me? I used to have it all together. Wait, no... save it for him to hear. "So, Mrs. Gordon. Your husband tells me you've been having headaches lately and trouble sleeping? Insomnia?" Jesus, what is this, a doctor's appointment? I nodded my head, entwining my unusually long fingers together to rest in my lap. "It hasn't been easy to sleep... lately." Mr. M.D furrowed his eyebrows, sensing my ever-growing discomfort. With this he stood from his chair and motioned a hand to the large sofa located at the far corner of the office, just near the window. "Why don't you tell me about it?"
It was a bit surreal to be the soul sitting on "the couch". The moment I sat down, I felt as if the walls were closing in on me. I quickly averted my gaze to the window, admiring the trees as they swayed with each breeze that passed through. "Tell you about it?" I breathed heavily, shrugging my shoulders. "Where do I start?" I heard his voice coming from one direction only. "Well, I've got all day." Pft, you lie. Reluctantly I turned my head to look at him, finding it to be a challenge to not do so as I poured all my problems out on his damn coffee table. Go ahead, Doc. Tell me what's wrong - what's wrong... with me. "You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you everything, trust me." I laughed but held my chest, questioning my own sanity. His puzzled look made me feel even more terrified. "Do you know how many times I hear that in one day? I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but you should know this."
I furrowed my eyebrows, giving him a quizzical look. "I should?" Dr. Thomas nodded his head in answer, leaning forward with both arms braced over his knees. "I know you're a psychiatrist, Mrs. Gordon. Your husband and I are childhood friends. Best friends now, actually. He told me everything about you, so there's nothing to hide. The only thing he left out was what you're supposed to tell me right here, right now. Don't worry, though. I won't make you say anything you don't want to say. It might take time, or it might never come out... but I'm here to listen." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, nodding my head in shame. "Okay... Thank you, Dr. Thomas." With the boyish grin I thought of as too much just minutes ago, the man leaned back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders. "Call me Matt."
ONE WEEK LATER
"So... Are you ready to tell me what's going on?" I lifted my head at his question, my eyes a little wider than intended. It seemed within that first week of speaking to Dr. Thomas, he had me figured out. I think my "deer in headlights" expression was apparent because he backed off. He leaned back in his black leather chair, putting a hand behind his head. I took a deep breath and leaned back as well, lifting my legs to gently tuck my feet beneath me. "Promise you won't think I'm crazy?" Matthew nodded his head with a soft reassuring smile. "I promise."
How would someone even begin to explain a situation such as mine? Not only was the story absurd, but I had to convince him I wasn't insane - something even I wasn't sure of. What if Alexander was just a figment of my imagination? That wasn't possible; Charlie had seen him and Kat was his sister. Lex had a life... something he created for me. Maybe I wasn't supposed to forget about him. Maybe everything that was happening now was just a warm-up to what would happen next. Maybe I'd see him again after all. Don't get ahead of yourself, Jay. My mind raced for a beginning, anxious for an outcome. "His name was Alexander..."
Almost an hour into the session - and the story - I started to break down emotionally and physically. It seemed as though each time I revisited the past, it only made it harder to accept the fact Lex was gone. I was nearly completely numb to the situation, and yet I was still able to cry. "I told him I'd come back, but I didn't. I lied to him and I still can't forgive myself for that," I clenched the tissue in my hand with a tight fist. "And I know he won't forgive me either." A bitter laugh escaped me as I wiped my eyes. "Go ahead, tell me what I should do. Tell me I need to suck it up and move on with my life. Jesus Christ, I'm married! I have a husband who loves me, and here I am gawking over a man I don't even know anymore."
Dr. Thomas leaned forward and, to my surprise, touched my leg. It was a harmless attempt to soothe me, I assumed. "Actually, I'm not going to tell you what to do at all. You're clearly in love with him. If Charlie wasn't my best friend I'd tell you to find Lex and make it work." His response left me utterly speechless. I stared at him, absentmindedly touching a hand to my chest. "It's not right to be in a relationship you want out of, Jamie - in so many words. It's only going to hurt more, not only for you but for Charlie." Never had I been given such... understanding. I looked down at my lap and dropped my shoulders, another episode of waterworks approaching.
"It's not that easy. If I did leave Charlie, where would I even begin to look for Lex? For all I know he could be locked up somewhere. It's irrational and irresponsible to attempt it." As much as I wanted to, I knew it just wasn't possible. Nothing seemed possible anymore. Kat could stand as a reliable resource, but I had a feeling she knew just as much as I did... which wasn't much at all. Even if she knew where he was, who was to say she'd help me? "It's comforting you see why I can't stay with Charlie, but it's pointless to leave him," I said while trying to regain control over my trembling bottom lip, my hands shaking in unison. "It'd be pointless."
"Not if you really care about sparing him the pain. Jamie, try seeing it through his eyes. Do you think it's easier for you two to stay together if there's no possible way of improving the marriage?" Matthew released my leg from his calming grasp, sitting back in his chair. "You left Alex when he was thirteen? How do you think it made him feel? Tell me how you'd feel if you were in his shoes." I thought about his question for a moment before answering with a shrug. "I think he was devastated. I know he was because I can still remember the look on his face when I told him. I could see the pain in his eyes. It tortures me." He nodded as if he had reached a conclusion. I gave him another quizzical look before pressing with caution. "What?" "Do you think he felt as though you didn't love him anymore?"
"Dr. Thomas, please-" He raised a hand, unwilling to let me continue. "What did I tell you? Call me Matt." I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of the interruption. "Matt, please don't make me say it. Don't even make me think it! Of course he thought that. Why wouldn't he?" A whimsical smile formed on his thin lips. "Then you need to show him that you do, and that you have all along."
3 o'clock. My attention shifted from the - what seemed to be - hundreds of plaques and awards, degrees and certificates scattered across each oak wall of the office. Of course, the office was meant to feel more like a lounge. A living room perhaps, but I knew exactly what it was. The tick... tock... tick... tock of the second hand grew increasing louder as it passed each number, irritating me. I contemplated grabbing my shit and heading for the door, but I couldn't. I was bound to be here, to sit here, and wait for Dr. Thomas. My body grew exhausted at the thought.
I wondered if my own patients felt like this each time they had to wait for my arrival. Although my reasoning was much more... complex, I was here for the same purpose: to confess my troubles, worries and doubts to a total stranger. Dr. Matthew Thomas. As if on cue, the lanky, 6-foot-something psychiatrist entered the "office", sporting a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Gordon. Sorry for making you wait, I was caught up in another session." Dr. Thomas immediately offered a hand. I nodded my head and smiled back (genuinely?), shaking his hand firmly - professionally. "It's not a problem, really. I was admiring your achievements," I confessed, my hazel hues darting to one of the many awards. "You're quite the successful man."
Did he blush? Dr. Thomas let out a hearty laugh and waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head as well. "No, no. That's ten long years in college on a wall." Ten years? Ignoring the headache I had since that morning, I tried calculating his age. "Ah, I see. Well, it's impressive nonetheless." He nodded his head and rounded his desk, setting down my file. My file. Oh man, what happened to me? I used to have it all together. Wait, no... save it for him to hear. "So, Mrs. Gordon. Your husband tells me you've been having headaches lately and trouble sleeping? Insomnia?" Jesus, what is this, a doctor's appointment? I nodded my head, entwining my unusually long fingers together to rest in my lap. "It hasn't been easy to sleep... lately." Mr. M.D furrowed his eyebrows, sensing my ever-growing discomfort. With this he stood from his chair and motioned a hand to the large sofa located at the far corner of the office, just near the window. "Why don't you tell me about it?"
It was a bit surreal to be the soul sitting on "the couch". The moment I sat down, I felt as if the walls were closing in on me. I quickly averted my gaze to the window, admiring the trees as they swayed with each breeze that passed through. "Tell you about it?" I breathed heavily, shrugging my shoulders. "Where do I start?" I heard his voice coming from one direction only. "Well, I've got all day." Pft, you lie. Reluctantly I turned my head to look at him, finding it to be a challenge to not do so as I poured all my problems out on his damn coffee table. Go ahead, Doc. Tell me what's wrong - what's wrong... with me. "You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you everything, trust me." I laughed but held my chest, questioning my own sanity. His puzzled look made me feel even more terrified. "Do you know how many times I hear that in one day? I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but you should know this."
I furrowed my eyebrows, giving him a quizzical look. "I should?" Dr. Thomas nodded his head in answer, leaning forward with both arms braced over his knees. "I know you're a psychiatrist, Mrs. Gordon. Your husband and I are childhood friends. Best friends now, actually. He told me everything about you, so there's nothing to hide. The only thing he left out was what you're supposed to tell me right here, right now. Don't worry, though. I won't make you say anything you don't want to say. It might take time, or it might never come out... but I'm here to listen." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, nodding my head in shame. "Okay... Thank you, Dr. Thomas." With the boyish grin I thought of as too much just minutes ago, the man leaned back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders. "Call me Matt."
ONE WEEK LATER
"So... Are you ready to tell me what's going on?" I lifted my head at his question, my eyes a little wider than intended. It seemed within that first week of speaking to Dr. Thomas, he had me figured out. I think my "deer in headlights" expression was apparent because he backed off. He leaned back in his black leather chair, putting a hand behind his head. I took a deep breath and leaned back as well, lifting my legs to gently tuck my feet beneath me. "Promise you won't think I'm crazy?" Matthew nodded his head with a soft reassuring smile. "I promise."
How would someone even begin to explain a situation such as mine? Not only was the story absurd, but I had to convince him I wasn't insane - something even I wasn't sure of. What if Alexander was just a figment of my imagination? That wasn't possible; Charlie had seen him and Kat was his sister. Lex had a life... something he created for me. Maybe I wasn't supposed to forget about him. Maybe everything that was happening now was just a warm-up to what would happen next. Maybe I'd see him again after all. Don't get ahead of yourself, Jay. My mind raced for a beginning, anxious for an outcome. "His name was Alexander..."
Almost an hour into the session - and the story - I started to break down emotionally and physically. It seemed as though each time I revisited the past, it only made it harder to accept the fact Lex was gone. I was nearly completely numb to the situation, and yet I was still able to cry. "I told him I'd come back, but I didn't. I lied to him and I still can't forgive myself for that," I clenched the tissue in my hand with a tight fist. "And I know he won't forgive me either." A bitter laugh escaped me as I wiped my eyes. "Go ahead, tell me what I should do. Tell me I need to suck it up and move on with my life. Jesus Christ, I'm married! I have a husband who loves me, and here I am gawking over a man I don't even know anymore."
Dr. Thomas leaned forward and, to my surprise, touched my leg. It was a harmless attempt to soothe me, I assumed. "Actually, I'm not going to tell you what to do at all. You're clearly in love with him. If Charlie wasn't my best friend I'd tell you to find Lex and make it work." His response left me utterly speechless. I stared at him, absentmindedly touching a hand to my chest. "It's not right to be in a relationship you want out of, Jamie - in so many words. It's only going to hurt more, not only for you but for Charlie." Never had I been given such... understanding. I looked down at my lap and dropped my shoulders, another episode of waterworks approaching.
"It's not that easy. If I did leave Charlie, where would I even begin to look for Lex? For all I know he could be locked up somewhere. It's irrational and irresponsible to attempt it." As much as I wanted to, I knew it just wasn't possible. Nothing seemed possible anymore. Kat could stand as a reliable resource, but I had a feeling she knew just as much as I did... which wasn't much at all. Even if she knew where he was, who was to say she'd help me? "It's comforting you see why I can't stay with Charlie, but it's pointless to leave him," I said while trying to regain control over my trembling bottom lip, my hands shaking in unison. "It'd be pointless."
"Not if you really care about sparing him the pain. Jamie, try seeing it through his eyes. Do you think it's easier for you two to stay together if there's no possible way of improving the marriage?" Matthew released my leg from his calming grasp, sitting back in his chair. "You left Alex when he was thirteen? How do you think it made him feel? Tell me how you'd feel if you were in his shoes." I thought about his question for a moment before answering with a shrug. "I think he was devastated. I know he was because I can still remember the look on his face when I told him. I could see the pain in his eyes. It tortures me." He nodded as if he had reached a conclusion. I gave him another quizzical look before pressing with caution. "What?" "Do you think he felt as though you didn't love him anymore?"
"Dr. Thomas, please-" He raised a hand, unwilling to let me continue. "What did I tell you? Call me Matt." I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of the interruption. "Matt, please don't make me say it. Don't even make me think it! Of course he thought that. Why wouldn't he?" A whimsical smile formed on his thin lips. "Then you need to show him that you do, and that you have all along."
Chapter 3: Moments of peace
Jack was handsome man.
His blue eyes were so strident, deep
as a sea.
He was a professor of mathematics.
He loved numbers and logics of knowledge,
but he wasn't patient with children, though.
Ignorance and inattention could break that small dose of humor he had.
What he wanted from children is to pay attention.
Sometimes he would come home all grouchy.
Dana would leave him be 'till he cheers up.
She was very compassionate.
Peace was very important to her, that peace
inside and she wanted to keep it.
Feeding her baby, watching her while she's sleeping were the most precious moments.
Dana was wonderful mother, very sensitive and caring.
Jack enjoyed in every moment spent with his wife and Gwenny.
Jack was handsome man.
His blue eyes were so strident, deep
as a sea.
He was a professor of mathematics.
He loved numbers and logics of knowledge,
but he wasn't patient with children, though.
Ignorance and inattention could break that small dose of humor he had.
What he wanted from children is to pay attention.
Sometimes he would come home all grouchy.
Dana would leave him be 'till he cheers up.
She was very compassionate.
Peace was very important to her, that peace
inside and she wanted to keep it.
Feeding her baby, watching her while she's sleeping were the most precious moments.
Dana was wonderful mother, very sensitive and caring.
Jack enjoyed in every moment spent with his wife and Gwenny.