Delusional
February, 1998
So this is what a therapist’s office looks like. It’s sparsely decorated with a couple of uncomfortable chairs that look like mauve threw up all over them, a side table stacked with outdated issues of Time magazine and, one really sad, frumpy looking lady. I try to make eye contact with her so I can give her the obligatory head nod, but she just glances at my shoes and then back down at the floor. Geez, what a miserable human being. I wasn’t prepared to sit amongst people with big problems. Then again, I’m not sure what I expected. Humph… I guess I didn’t give it much thought; I was too busy working my ass off all day at the office solving other people’s problems so I’d get here in time for someone else to solve mine. I arrived right on time and, thank God, because I can’t stand to sit in this waiting room of shame for one minute longer than I have to. Just as I bend down to grab something out of my purse to pretend I’m interested in, the door that I assume leads to the individual therapist’s offices opens and an official looking woman eyeballs me. She’s maternal looking with a classy Bohemian sense of style. Sections of her shoulder-length hair are pulled back in a loose bun held together with a pencil, and her chic tortoise shell glasses are dangling on the very tip of her nose. Judging by the expression on her face, I’m exactly what she expected. Dumb blond.
“You must be Chrissy.”
“Hi! Yes!” Extending my arm out for her to shake, “Sooooo nice to meet you!”
I realized there was way too much glee in my greeting when Sad Frumpy Lady rolled her eyes up and gave me a blank stare.
“Hi hunny, I’m Dr. Maria. Follow me on back.”
Her office is dimly lit. She points to an area on the couch where she wants me to sit. I plop myself down, cross my legs, and immediately start to twirl my hair like I just settled into the best booth at Whiskey bar. I swear, if we had a couple of martinis, this could be a cocktail party.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re here, Chrissy?”
What, no drinks?
“Well, I assume you listened to my voice message and it’s all very embarrassing. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I certainly don’t ever plan on doing it again. Mostly I just wanna understand why I did it, figure out how to deal with the guilt, and move on. I’ve never even dated another guy, never wanted to at all! I love Kurt. That’s my husband’s name, Kurt. We’ve been together since high school, just like my parents! We married three years ago and he’s amazing! Lights up any room when he walks through the door. Everyone just loves…”
“Why don’t you tell me about this other man- the one you spent Saturday evening with.”
I could really use that martini right about now.
“Oh, uh…His name is Leo.”
Saying his name makes me feel pretty.
“And?”
“And he’s just…different.”
“Different than what?”
“Different than anyone I’ve ever met.” “How does it feel to talk about him?”
“Obviously, it’s embarrassing and I’m totally confused about all of it.”
“Anything else?”
“I guess it’s also electrifying, and I don’t know why that is. It seems like what I did should have the opposite effect, like I should be depressed, but I’m not. I feel like I have super powers or something.”
“Tell me more about Leo.”
“I don’t really know how to explain him; he’s just someone I wish I could get to know better.”
“Why?”
God I hate this.
“I guess when I was with him, I felt alive, and I feel alive right now talking about him. And I wanna shout out that I met the most amazing person in the world, but I can’t do that. It kinda scares me that he’ll have to stay in my mind forever. Feels very Bridges of Madison County, ya know?”
Since I’m not a middle aged Iowan woman of Italian decent with two teenage kids and an ol’ fart farmer husband, she’s obviously having a hard time making the connection.
“I saw that movie a few years ago, and it depressed the hell out of me. The woman, Francesca, had an affair with some traveling photographer dude who rolled into town, and even though she only knew him for a few days, he was the one for her. Did you see the movie?”
“Who didn’t?”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, I remember being on the edge of my seat when the photographer… crap, what was his name again?”
“Robert Kincaid.”
Yep, she saw the movie.
“Right! Remember that scene when Robert was waiting for Francesca in his beat up old truck at the stop light, and she was in the car behind him with her husband sitting in the driver’s seat?”
“Oh I remember. It was pretty heavy.”
“Beyond heavy. Robert was giving her one last chance to run away with him, and she sat there totally agonizing over the choice…I agonized with her. I mean, he was the love she’d been waiting for her whole life! I thought…she has to go! But she didn’t. The obligation to her husband and kids was greater than the one she had to herself, so after the light turned green, she watched her love drive away forever. I felt like letting him go was more shameful than her affair. Should I be embarrassed for admitting that?”
“Do you think Francesca knew something was missing from her life before she met Robert?”
She ignored my question. Rude!
“I don’t think so. I think she was busy living the life she chose. I don’t think she knew what was missing until it smacked her in the face.”
“Was this Leo guy your smack in the face?”
Afraid of my answer I turn my focus to the ugly picture hanging on her wall, hoping she’ll move on to something else.
“Chrissy, do you think Leo is making you second guess the life you chose?”
I guess you get what you pay for around here.
“Not at all.”
“Then why does your encounter with Leo remind you of Bridges of Madison County?”
This lady’s starting to bug me.
“Well, I’m not second-guessing my decision to be married to Kurt, if that’s what you think. But, I guess I’m having a hard time fighting the feelings that surfaced when I met Leo last Saturday night.” I abruptly stop mid hair-twirl and blurt out, “You know what really bothers me about that movie?”
“What’s that?”
“It never showed Francesca coping with any guilt, and it never showed how she survived the loss of her true love! The movie cut from when the photographer drove away to like twenty years later when her husband kicked the bucket. What the hell was she doing all those years in between? How did she resume her life after her true love disappeared? It sure would help to know where I’m supposed to put all of my feelings so I can go back to the choices I made before Leo. Choices I was happy with, by the way.”
“Do you think it’s possible to find true love after only knowing someone for a few days?”
“I don’t know. But…I think meeting someone so perfect for you can make you question the true love you thought you already had. Hold on, are we talking about me or Francesca?”
She says nothing, and the quiet allows me to ponder the movie a little bit more.
“Remember when Francesca was toying with pulling the car door handle?”
“Big moment, huh?”
“Huge. You think she’s gonna get out and run. I mean she HAS TO right!? It’s her destiny to be with Robert! But then she peels her fingers away from the door handle, slumps back in her seat…crushed by her obligations.”
I laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?”
“I watched the movie with Kurt, and I remember telling him that I thought she should’ve pulled the door handle. He looked at me like I was a monster. I quickly explained that I only said that because I imagined him as being Robert, he was the one I would have an affair with. Then he got angry that I would even suggest an affair. It became a big argument.”
“What happened?”
We had an argument. Duh! I just told you that.
“Well, I tried to explain to him that he was my whole world and, married or not, I would escape any situation to be with him. I thought it was sweet, but instead of feeling moved by my confession, he pooh-poohed all of it. I dunno…maybe I didn’t explain myself right. Seems like I always have a hard time explaining myself to Kurt.”
“Now that you’ve had this experience with Leo, how do you see yourself in that car scene from the movie?”
It takes me a long time to process her question. When I finally answer, it’s slow.
“Kurt and I are in the same car. Leo’s waiting for me in the truck ahead of us, and I can see his eyes in the rear view mirror, they’re pleading with me to run away with him.” Goosebumps pop up all over my arms, and I close my eyes in almost agonizing pain as I envision the scene I’m creating. “And my hand is gripping the door handle.”
“Knowing you might not ever see Leo again, do you pull the handle?”
My eyes pop wide open.
“My situation is different than Francesca’s…I’m younger…I don’t have children.”
“Are you saying it makes your choice easier?”
“No…I’m saying that…I’m saying…I don’t know what I’m saying!
I’ve never had anyone to compare Kurt to. He’s all I’ve ever known.”
“Pretend you’re her and you have to make a choice. Do you pull it?”
“I never wanted to be Francesca.”
“Do you pull it?”
I want to pull that pencil out of your hair and stab you in the face with it!
“Chrissy?”
“Damn it, my obligation tells me no, but the craving for whatever I felt on Saturday night tells me I have to, and I’m scared because craving is kicking obligation’s ass.”
“Sometimes it’s easy to confuse safety with obligation. Do you think that’s what Francesca did?”
I’m really starting to regret bringing up this movie.
“You mean, do I think that’s what I’m doing? Look, maybe obligation was the wrong word. Bottom line is I love Kurt. He’s all I’ve ever loved, but since Saturday, that love feels like some kind of a sacrifice and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Chrissy, you just traded in the word obligation for sacrifice.” For the love of Christ. Coming here was a huge mistake.
“Dr. Maria, I came alive on Saturday night, and all I want to know is how to keep that feeling and go back to my life before I met Leo. Is that possible?”
“Anything’s possible. Why don’t you tell me more about Saturday and the events leading up to it.”
I tell her everything about the night I met Leo and the phone call the day after. I tell her about walking around aimlessly in the rain and my first ever orgasm. I tell her that I went days without thinking about my husband and that I let the few calls he did make to me go straight to voicemail. But mostly, I tell her about the type of woman I’ve always been and how that woman is so opposite of what I was the night I met Leo. I thoroughly explain how much men annoy me, and have my whole life. I get furious whenever one of them checks me out, attempts to grab a seat next to me at the airport, just says “hello.” I can spot those schmucks a mile away, and my invariable response to them is to flash them my wedding ring, a dirty look, and walk away.
“If that’s the case, why didn’t you walk away from Leo? What made him so different?”
“There was nothing to walk away from. He never even approached me.”
“I see. What made you approach him then?”
“It’s so stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“He was just talking about something I thought was interesting. I guess I wanted to know more.”
Please don’t ask! Please don’t ask!
“What was it?”
Oh, Lordy.
“Ghosts. He was talking about ghosts.”
And I thought her Bridges of Madison County face was weird.
“I know, I know, it’s corny. Kurt thinks my fascination with ghosts is completely silly as well.”
“No, not silly at all.”
“Sure it is, but hearing Leo talk about them was, I dunno… almost serene. Anyway, I interrupted his conversation to ask him a question and he made me feel stupid, like I was some kind of bar whore or something. It was pretty embarrassing. I was gonna leave it at that, but as he turned back around to continue to talk to his buddy, our eyes met. Frankly, he intimidated me a little bit and I told him so. I mean, not in a bitchy way just in a sarcastic ‘are you always this pleasant’ kind of way. Anyway, my comment amused him and now I’m in therapy.”
I thought it was her turn to talk, but she’s just staring at me, waiting for me to say more.
“A few months ago, I read some stupid article in Cosmo about dating. I don’t know why really, because well…I’m married and obviously I don’t date. But anyway, it said the quickest way to determine true companionship is to interview your date the minute they show up at your door. Just put yourself totally out there and request they do the same. It’s supposed to speed up knowing if you should pursue a second date or end the first one on the spot. No sense wasting time right?”
Just a nod.
“Like if during the interview I confessed to being a diehard vegetarian and the guy revealed he loved veal, obviously we would immediately agree that we were totally wrong for each other, no matter what physical attraction originally existed.
“Seems like there would be no shame of rejection with a process like that.”
“Exactly! I mean, if a guy didn’t want to be with you, chances are you wouldn’t want to be with him either and you’d both know exactly why. And there’s no embarrassment… no heartbreak. As long as everyone’s honest, it seems like a very efficient way to find a true companion, right?”
Another nod, but at least this one shows some positive consideration for what I’m saying.
“Anyway, I know I wasn’t technically on a first date with Leo, but I thought it would be fun to try what I had read. Within the first hour of meeting him, we covered politics, abortion, religion, money, dreams, goals, fears, you name it. I honestly answered all of his questions and remarkably, he did the same, and what happened was insane. He liked me. The good, the bad, and the ugly, and I felt the same way about him. It was like every other second one of us was saying ‘me too’ or ‘I totally agree’!”
“Would you say you were 100% you?”
“More like 200%. I told him things I’ve never admitted to another human being.”
“If you don’t mind sharing, what was the craziest thing you told him?”
“That I wanted to be a good wife. I know… how twisted is that? There I am, a wife, flirting with a guy I met at a bar and I’m telling him I want to be a good wife. Makes me sick to my stomach.”
“What does it mean to be a good wife to you?”
“Being given the freedom to act how I want to act, do the things I want to do, so that I can enjoy my husband and make him happy. You know…I actually told Leo that I might want to quit my job and be a housewife one day. Yep, told him that I thought it was a good idea to keep my options open because, who knows what I’ll want when I have kids. Crap, I can barely admit that stuff to myself! Who blurts that out to someone they just met?”
“Probably not many. I’m curious, have you ever tried this interview process with Kurt?”
“Nah. It wouldn’t go well.”
“Explain.”
“I used to admit my hopes and dreams to Kurt, but it was clear they put too much pressure on him. So I stopped. The troubling thing about meeting Leo, other than the kissing and orgasm of course…” I wanted her to think that was funny but I got nothing, “Is that I told him all the things I stopped telling Kurt a long time ago. I think that’s what’s bothering me so much.”
“Do you think we can create a safe place in this office for you to tell Kurt your dreams?”
“A week ago, I would’ve been doing back handsprings for an opportunity like that. But after meeting someone who’s so perfect for me, the reinvention of Kurt and Chrissy seems like such a struggle.”
“So is that a no?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a no. It’s more of an uncertain yes.”
She stops to tap her pencil on her pad of paper.
“What do you think the best relationships are made of?”
It’s funny, or maybe it’s sad, but I immediately draw on my short time with Leo for an answer.
“Passion.”
“Where do you think passion comes from?”
What is this… a f*cking game show!?
“I dunno, when you have common ground with someone, when you agree more than you disagree…you get happy, you get connected.
You get passion.”
“I think so too.”
You do?
“Couples don’t always agree, of course. But, I think the best relationships are about a shared vision. Shared visions create passion. Passion keeps people together.
Kurt and I don’t have a shared vision, we never did. The flood gates are now open.
“Do you need a tissue, Chrissy.”
I grab four.
“For three days I’ve been crying over what I did to Kurt, but right now I’m crying because of how sad it is that my dreams frustrate my husband to the point that I stopped having any with him. I managed to keep them to myself for a while, but that was totally frustrating. Eventually I just stopped dreaming altogether.”
“That’s not good.”
I blow my nose and think for a minute.
“I always thought that life was just one long list of mostly unfulfilled dreams.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re constantly dreaming of what we want to accomplish, places we want to go, people we want to meet. Obviously everything we dream about isn’t gonna come true, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, I think when one dream goes unfulfilled, you create another one to take its place so you always feel like you’re working towards something. Along the way, hopefully you can feel intermittent successes. Those little successes are what make life great. And I imagine what makes it even better is when you share the dreams, the old unfulfilled ones and the ones that take their place, with the person you love.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Here come the tears again.
“But when you stop talking about your dreams with the person you love because he thinks they’re ridiculous, all that’s left is nonsense.”
“When did you stop?”
“I’m not sure exactly, because for a long time I assumed Kurt’s dreams as my own.”
“Why?”
“Because it made him happy and it made us look like a team.” I take a deep breath before I proceed. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve sacrificed too much of myself to be with Kurt, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why.”
“Maybe you had your eye on the prize rather than on what you were actually winning.”
“Maybe you’re right. But there are wonderful things about Kurt too.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of wonderful things about him just like there are plenty of wonderful things about you. And initially all of those wonderful things are what attracted you to each other, but maybe you two were always on separate paths.”
“Are you saying we should give up on each other? Because I don’t want to give up on him.”
“Not at all. Any marriage can be repaired if both people want to fix it and conversely, any marriage can end if both people agree they made a mistake.”
“I don’t want my marriage to be a mistake. I wanna share my dreams with Kurt and have him share back. I wanna feel close to him. I wanna have the kind of marriage with him that I always dreamt of: intimate, special, nurturing. Can you help me with all of that?”
“I’m going to do my best to help the two of you get what you need.”
“Gosh, Dr. Maria, so many thoughts are stacked in my head, I can’t make sense out of anything anymore.”
“You know what happens when too much gets stacked in our heads?”
“Yeah, we cheat on our husbands.”
I got a slight smile out of her on that one.
“Not necessarily, but it’s safe to say that one would eventually go nuts if they kept all of their true feelings and thoughts to themselves, never feeling safe from harassment for being authentic. It would make for a very lonely world right?”
“Very lonely.”
“Tell me, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m the Vice President of a clothing company.”
“Wow, so young to have such a big job.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“Do you like your job?”
“On the one hand, I love what I do because I’m good at it. But on the other hand, I resent my career because of how demanding it is. It’ll never allow me to be what I’d like to be.”
“What’s that?”
“A mom. And if time permitted and it didn’t take away from my family, I imagined having a job that felt more like a hobby, like an interior decorator or a writer or something. I feel like I have something creative in me that’s dying to get out. It sounds very spoiled and stupid, I know.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid at all. Tell me, what’s your relationship like with the people at work?”
“They probably don’t like me very much. I’m tough. But they ask for my advice a lot, so I take that as a sign of respect. I enjoy helping them solve their problems, and I think I’m pretty good at it.”
“Does Kurt mingle with the people you work with?”
“Oh no, no, no. He wouldn’t like who I am around them.”
“Explain that to me.”
“I don’t know if I can. I’m not sure I understand it myself.”
“You just got done telling me you’re good at what you do and you enjoy helping the people you work with, but then you say your husband wouldn’t like you in that environment. Why?”
“I guess he would think I was too controlling. He wouldn’t like my dark sense of humor my abrasiveness…uh, my high standards. I don’t let people hold me back. He doesn’t like those things at home so why would he like them there?”
“Do you think Kurt’s holding you back?”
She got me with this one. I wanna defend him, us, so badly, but after everything I just said, how can I?
“I don’t know. Obviously I don’t know anything anymore. Why else would I act the way I did on Saturday? I just wanna be a real team with Kurt, not the team everyone thinks we are.”
“Does it matter to you what people think?”
“Definitely not at work, but outside of it, I would have to say, yes.”
Jesus, solve my current dilemma already! I don’t need the full monty life analysis of Chrissy. Just tell me I’m a bad, bad girl for cheating on my husband, then tell me how to bury the guilt and move on with the life I’ve spent the last twelve f*cking years creating!
“How would it feel to be how you are at work around your husband?”
I chuckle a little. “Liberating and impossible all at the same time.”
“Why is it impossible?”
“It just is.”
“But why do you think that?”
“I’d be too much for him to tolerate. I’d be opinionated and strong-minded. He’d be mad at me ALL THE TIME!”
“He’d be mad at you for being authentic, for being you?”
“Yep.”
“Chrissy, how can you be on a real team with Kurt when you’re not real with him?”
I hate her. As if she knows, she changes the subject.
“What’s your relationship like with your parents?” I’m getting a little uptight now.
“Fine.”
“How do you think they’d react to what you did on Saturday?”
“They’d probably expect I’d screw up sooner or later.”
“Any close friends?”
“Yeah, my best friends from high school: Courtney, Kelly, and Nicole.
Kurt’s also good friends with their husbands. We do a lot together.”
“How would they react to what you did on Saturday night?”
“They’d be confused because they think Kurt and I are perfect.”
“Have you thought about confiding in them?”
“No way.”
“Do you think their relationship with him is more important to them than their relationship with you?”
“Of course not, they love me like I’m their sister! I just can’t tell them. Nobody can know about this.”
She’s compassionately nodding her head; she can sense I’m on the brink of a meltdown. I have an overwhelming feeling that I’m f*cked.
“Chrissy, you did really well today, but I’d like to set up another appointment for next week. Will that work for you?”
I did really well today????? We didn’t accomplish a damn thing! I gotta leave here with unresolved issues? What the hell?!?!?!?!?
“Sure, next week sounds good.” I’m such a pathetic pleaser.
“Good. I’d like to talk about your family a little bit more. Would that be alright with you?”
I give her an exasperated “Sure.”
“Hunny, therapy’s a marathon, not a sprint. I can tell you’re a fine young woman and I want to help you, but in order to do that I have to learn a lot more about you. My hope is that you will also learn a lot about yourself. You will find the answers you need in this process and you will be okay. Just give it some time.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Dr. Maria, but what if I slip again? What if I cave into the urge to call Leo? I can’t get him off of my mind.”
“That’s a tough one.”
Jesus, what good are you people?
“But, what I can tell you is that you should do whatever feels right to you. Yes, you made a vow to your husband, and I know it’s killing you that you broke it, but Chrissy your first commitment is to yourself. If you’re not happy you will never make another living soul happy. I’m not condoning adultery, but I’m also not condoning a miserable existence. That being said, I would hate to see you compound the guilt you’re already feeling. So it would be best to resist the urge to contact Leo until you know what you’d be contacting him for. Do you think you’ll be okay until we meet next week?”
What am I thinking? I’m here to fix my marriage; of course I can make it a week. I have to make it a week. I nod my head yes like it’s no biggie, but the hole in my heart that’s flashing a big neon vacancy sign says otherwise.
I was thinking if you were lonely
Maybe we could leave here and no one would know
At least not to the point that we would think so
Everyone here, knows everyone here is thinking about
Somebody else
(Back 2 Good/Matchbox 20)