Love Is Ǝvil

57 I Swore To Make The Gray Skies End

The sun shone brightly through the blinds and painted stripes on the floor and on one of the walls, even the desk was grazed by the light. Except for the potted plant on the windowsill the room was empty of life not him. Above the couch hung a piece of wood with a dreamlike landscape burned into it: A stretch of grass and forest was rolling in on itself, clouds following the curve like waves crashing. Only a moment, she had said.

Marshall sat on the couch and kneaded his lower lip between his fingers, waiting for the door to open. Usually he wouldn't mind a little delay, maybe take out his notebook and use the bit of time to write or he might listen to a song. Music was never far away. His life was often busy and stressful, so he understood that sometimes things just came up unexpectedly. But not today. Today he had things on his mind, so many things. Where should he start? With the nonsense that was their open relationship? Marshall had agreed to it, probably out of similar reasons as Nicolas had: anything was better than nothing. Didn't mean he was convinced of it. Also, the whole therapy sex thing Nicolas had put on him didn't feel okay. He was sure, she had an opinion on that. Or should he start with the threesome dream? Everything about it was wrong, yet tempting. The most concerning was how this was his first reaction to a break-up. Why couldn't he do shit normal? Should he tell her how he talked to himself as if DeShaun was still alive? That couldn't be healthy. Not a pressing matter. There was value in going to the beginning and see how things unfolded, so you were able to see the future with the knowledge of the past. Often it was easier to talk your way back, events only moments ago more present than what happened weeks ago. There was probably a lot to unpack about New Year's.

The door opened, she stepped through. "I apologize again, some people don't know how to wait their turn."

"No biggie", he made a dismissive hand gesture. Unexpectedness was part of life, unfortunately. He sat himself up straight, ready for their session. This would be a taxing session he suspected, but he was ready to work hard.

For a second she went to her desk and took a notebook out of one of its drawers before she took her seat across from him in the chair. Her smile was kind as usual. The notebook sat open on her lap, words written on the pages. "So, are you ready to start?", she asked.

Marshall nodded confident, "Yeah, I'm prepared and everything, even did my homework." Although he wasn't sure it would bring them forward he had completed it: What did he think about sex with strangers? That it was fun and exciting, that it was easy and fuss-free, that it was a little like being on stage.

"Very good", she praised with a sincere tone in her voice. "But we can ease into it: How have your holidays been?"

"Full and a little complicated", he answered and shrugged briefly, a gesture to minimize the impact the last few weeks have had. He knew better. "I mean, baking with the girls was fun and all that, but a lot been happening. I've been feeling ... overwhelmed lately. I don't like that." Oh girl, you getting back on that dick train, that's all this is. You belong on a dick, you're just slow at building a schedule. Organizing ain't your strong suit.

"Because Nicolas broke up with you?", she asked and her voice was full with understanding and compassion. It was easy to believe she honestly cared. "I received your message."

He knew that. She had been calling him a few times afterward but he hadn't picked up. It was often easier to avoid things, though that wasn't a solution. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to call you, just ... I was angry and didn't know where to put it."

"No worries", she assured him. How she dealt with people being unjustly angry at her, he would never understand. "Do you want to talk about it? Where did you put your anger in the end?"