Disillusioned

Disillusioned. Disillusioned is a good way of describing it. You know, at the beginning, gosh, it sounds so silly, but at the beginning I really believed…I really believed that it actually might have worked, yea, it MIGHT have worked, since well at first, he was this awesome person. Thrilling, exuberating, he made me feel special, as if he was genuinely interested in me, and he actually put some effort, well, I think I must say, I thought he was putting in some effort for me, but yea, we talked hours and hours on the phone, and I had this sense that I was getting to know him, and he was getting to know me, and he always said the things I needed to hear…he even travelled huge distances just to see me for a couple of hours. Gosh, it was one of the happiest times of my life. Even the sun was blessing us with pleasant temperatures, something which is rare in these parts, you know, yea, everything seemed as if in the movies, and I guess, I guess that’s why I didn’t see it coming, I think, I don’t know…it’s…I’m…I’m just confused I think, I don’t know, why it suddenly all changed, but for some reason, suddenly the frequency of calls lessened, and I didn’t mind at first, I just figured it was a bit busy and he’d come around once it lessened, but yea, he suddenly cancelled dates with silly excuses, and I knew they were excuses since I could see he had been online at the hours of our dates, and gosh, suddenly I started doubting, and I…yea, I waited, and waited until he reached out to me, since well, it’s not always me who has to make the first contact, is it, doctor?

The psychologist nodded silently and didn’t say a word.

It’s not supposed to be me all the time. It’s not. Isn’t love supposed to be bidirectional? Isn’t it? I can’t imagine it being one way? What’s the value of saying I love you as it never gets positively reconfirmed? Isn’t it that a bit empty? Well, that’s what, I think. But still, I miss him, for some reason. Or is it just the feeling I miss, doc? Doc, are you listening?

Again no word from the psychologist who just sat there and listened like walls always eavesdropping on our words.

You remind me of him, you know, you’re not asking questions, your eternal silence until it’s time to call it quits. It’s as if all is just about the money, about what you need, and not about the patient. It wouldn’t hurt to respond sometimes, you don’t always need to nod as well, I’m not expecting to be right all the time, you know…I can be wrong at times, maybe I’m wrong with him and maybe he still does love me, but how…how do I know if I don’t hear from him? If he’s not contacting me? Should I ask again and again and again? Am I the one who needs to bear the brunt of the relationship so he can…I don’t even know anymore. I’m…I’m feeling depressed I think. I like talking, and arguing, but what is there to argue with someone who doesn’t reply? See, I told you that you remind me of him…he too made me do most of the talking, he too limited his questions and he always…

The psychologist the patient by handing over a prescription and said: “Take one a day and call my secretary for your next appointment.”

Sorry for the long wait on new material. I've experienced what people call a writer's block. Hopefully it stays away for a while now!