THERAPY SESSION; a short story
therapist – tell me your name
patient – my pronouns are they and them
therapist – okay. I’ve read your file and…I’m sorry but I can’t help you
patient – Yes you can and you will.
therapist – and what can I do exactly? I’m as clueless as you are
patient – I’m not clueless. I know exactly what I want.
therapist – and what exactly do you want?
patient – I want to stop being clueless.
I want you to help me find purpose in this agony.
I want you to anoint me, single me out, open my heart, plant a cactus in the granite you find there, and then weld my flesh back together with burning sulphur.
therapist – You do not speak the words I can understand.
patient – You do not understand the words I can speak.
therapist – Okay, let’s go back to the top. It says in your file that you’re addicted to the taste of dexgdie7%&vs.
What does it taste like?
patient – Like the moon when its back has been peeled off, like water after it has shed its skin at night, like incense from hell’s alter when it rises before the mighty throne bearing forth baskets of caskets of bones, fleshes, praise, and worship.
therapist – I’m sorry, but this is vague. I need something I can work with if you want me to help you. Okay, what does your obse#@fjw6cb look like?
patient – like the clouds that protect heaven from being contaminated with the cries of the oppressed, like Lot’s wife who smiles underneath her expensive garment of salt, like the expensive jewellery that strangles its owner, like the wedding ring that promises a future but ties the marital womb from ensuring posterity.
therapist – do you love he^befashe4)+=?
patient – Yes I do, but only as an enemy.
I love her like David loved the songs that forced him to dance naked even when his lover scorned, like Achilles loved his heels that saved him from drowning in the pool of immortality, but later opened the gate for the enemy’s arrow, like Lucifer loved his pride that enthroned him King of the world but ruler of the damned.
I love he^befashe4)+=, Like I love you. You, who I shall confide in now, then kill afterwards so that my secrets stay safe forever.
therapist – you frighten me. Who are you?
patient – a drowning shadow, an arch angel, a pillar of fire extinguished by alcohol, an apocalypse, a sleepwalker, but none of this matter anymore because this is my cue. I never answer this question without closing the chapter.
And one last thing therapist: when you cross over, please do not tell any of my exes that I now attend therapy. Tell them that one day I will be reborn as a crippled Phoenix that rises from the floodgates
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