Idealism

"What's so special about him?" The good doctor asked Joplin at the beginning of their Tuesday session.

"Everything."

"Is it purely physical?"

"No. I have this entire fantasy life with him. It's what keeps me going but it's also what makes me want to die most. What if I'm wrong and I never get to have him? I know that everything would be better if I was with him. I need him. He's my soul mate. I ache to breath in the air he exhales. Sometimes when I wake up I can smell the traces of his cologne in my sheets and before I fall asleep I can feel his strong arms wrapping around me. His lips tickle my temples as he whispers to me that he loves me. His hair is unbelievably soft for a boy and I love the way it feels between my fingers, he likes when my nails are longer loves the way my nails lightly scratch his scalp. It's why I stopped nibbling my nails away. My mom used to tell me that I looked like a nervous little rodent when I'd do that so it helps a lot because I wouldn't want to resemble a rat around him." Joplin rambled.

"But it's not real, you said so yourself it's a fantasy."

"I know. But it will be. He's my future. He just doesn't know it yet and that's only because he isn't yet aware that I exist. He will soon though." Joplin insisted.

"How will he know?"

"I'll make him notice me of course."

"How?"

"I haven't decided yet. I need to find the perfect scenario and make it all play out perfectly. I have imagined multiple ways to do it. I write stories about it. But I can't do it until I find the right way for everything to play out. It has to seem serendipitous, if he knew how much thought and effort I put into it I would seem completely bonkers. I am not insane. It's just hard though because I just want to be with him already. I want to really feel it." Joplin sighed.

"Feel what?" Lisbon asked.

"Feel what it's like to be fixed by him. Too feel his lovely hands against my skin. To feel him grin and chuckle into my hair while we are cuddling and I'm regaling him with humorous tales. My life will be just like war." The young girl smiled and her psychologist was confused.

"War?" The doctor asked sounding concerned.

"Everything will be beautiful and nothing will hurt." She elaborated.

"Are you a big fan of Vonnegut? Do you like reading? A lot of people use reading as an escape." Lisbon passively suggested.

"I adore reading but it doesn't compare. I will still be lonely with books. Books can never really love you back. This one time I was reading, and actually it's happened numerous times but never mind that I will say this one time for the sake of finding metaphors for life within one's own life, this one time I was reading and sipping too hot apple cider that burned and possibly even singed my tongue and as I was smiling through the pain and gazing at the words and feeling them in my bones because it was all very lovely I went to turn the page and the corner of it nicked my thumb. I bleed and smeared the words crimson, it stung and it hurt and it was the closest a book has ever come to caressing my body and all it did was cause me pain and make me leak blood out. He would never hurt me, he will never hurt me. He won't let me be lonely." Joplin's stunningly blue eyes began to water and she blinked them away before they could ruin her pure black eye liner and mascara. She inhaled shakily.

"Are you lonely?" Lisbon inquired.

"Not anymore because I know that there is no need to be lonely and no need to worry about love. All I need to do is be a good girl and wait patiently." Joplin told her.

"Alright, but you were lonely before? When did things start with him?"

"I don't remember precisely, the first time I can really recall him was after this started but I was still lonely. I had nobody, I was keeping all of these secrets from everyone and I only had two friends but I didn't really consider them friends. I had been hurt by all of these people and it was difficult to open up to anyone because what if they left me like everyone else? You see I was always the one who cared more in all of my relationships before him so there was a wall around my organs and my emotions, it was like this barrier with bricks of body parts held together with dried tears." Joplin laughed heartily, "Well that sounded rather dramatic but that's what it felt like. It felt like dying with an audience of people who are supposed to love you but half of them are murdering you and the other half don't know to help you because you are so frightened that you don't know who is going to stop the madness and who wants to help butcher you." She stopped speaking to breath and compose herself.

"Whose limbs are forming the wall?" Lisbon asked before her patient could continue.

"Well I don't know. I suppose it's the body of the girl who I was with them and the girl who I was before they broke me. Anyway I was dying in a circus tent and there were all these onlookers and I couldn't ask for help and I was laying in my bed one night, but it might as well of been the bone shatteringly hard and cold flooring that failing falling acrobats land on when they fuck up an act and die. My bed wasn't warm enough even with my blankets and I was sobbing and heaving and shaking because I was so utterly alone and unloved and I wished I was dead. I put my hand over my mouth and clamped down because I didn't want my parents to hear my cries and then all of the sudden I felt him wrap around me and hold me and I could see him in my head whispering to me and comforting me. Soothing away my sobs. His hands caressed my face and I felt better. That is the first time I remember him." Joplin smiled at the end of her story.