Thicker Than Paper

New Perspectives

It wouldn't feel right, dropping the cranes anywhere else. But it would feel even worse not making them. So they sit in a small black trashcan, next to my dresser. A trash can that's supposed to be full of wrappers and papers and shit. But now it's full of little pitiful paper cranes. Every time I pass it, I think of how much has changed. And how little has changed. Then I throw one more into the bunch.

~~~

"So, how are you Phoenix?" I hate this part the most. The small little chit-chat as we walk back to her little square office that smells like too much lavender and has only inspirational quotes covering the walls.

"Good," Is my average reply. Or Fine.

"Do anything fun the past week?" We walk into the poorly lighted room. 

I sit on the couch, and play with the corner of a throw pillow, "Nah. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Same old same old?" It's weird to me, having her make so much eye-contact. Many past therapists wrote stuff down when I was with them. 

"Yeah," After weeks, our meetings never start any different. Always the same, uncomfortable small talk.

"That's good, I guess, Stable is better then worse, right?" I nod and she crosses her legs in her seat. She told me our first meeting she got it at a garage sale. I tried not to wrinkle my nose at the idea of bug.

My therapist's name is Mae something. She told me she got married when she was twenty four and is still trying to have kids.

"So, last time you told me you don't really believe in love. What's that about?" Mae crosses her arms. I want to scream. I want to show my frustration. But I know I can't do that to her.

I rub my knuckles with my thumb, "I don't know. I think what people think is love, is just a type of lust. The love they want is unachievable. True love is an abstract thought created by Hollywood and romance novels. I know is impossible to really, truly love. But that's what everyone wants. And if I can't give someone what they want, then they won't want me. It's a chain reaction, never-ending." I add a shrug as if it justifies all my rambling.

Mae narrows her eyes, testing me. I stare back, saying all I think needs to be said. But she wants more, "You don't believe in the concept of true love? So relationships, what are the point of those?"

I shrug again, "I don't know, to just trust someone? I don't know. Lot's of times it just seems pointless, honestly. I'll never trust someone enough, please someone enough. I'm scared I'll get bored, or they'll get bored. Then what? I screw up some boy or girls life because they thought they loved me, but I won't ever say it back?" Mae says nothing, so I talk more, faster, "Maybe that kind of risk is something for people. Like adrenaline junkies or something. But I'm not really willing to make that risk. It could so much for so many. It seems kind of irresponsible."

"Irresponsible? You think bonding with someone, trusting someone, is irresponsible?" I nod and can tell Mae's almost mad at my thought process, "But you've had relationships before, haven't you?"

I nod faster, "Of course, yeah. But obviously, none of them worked out. And every time I get out of one, I feel even more quilt fall on my shoulders. Like, I'm such a waste of their time. What if they kissed someone better because they were with me? That'd suck. I don't think I'd ever forgiven myself, and I certainly don't expect them ever too."

"Explain some of your past relationships. Real ones, longer than one-week stands. From the first one," Then she makes a gesture, to go on.

I lick my lips and think back, "Eighth grade I dated Ashley Davis, that lasted a couple of weeks. But it was one of those, just to say I'm dating that personal relationship. My next one wasn't any better. I dated Andrea, you know her, "For a little more than two years. That was definitely for the show. Neither of us were in it for real feelings. Then I dated Travis, right after we both came out. I'd kissed him at a party, came out and then he came out a few weeks later. That was nice while it lasted-"

"Why'd you two break up?" I squirm in my seat and sigh.

"I started dating him right after a bad depressive episode. The one were I first cut. And I never wanted him to see me like that. He told me he liked me because I was nice and sweet and 'perfect'. Then I thought about how I have cuts on my hips, how I fill my body with drugs to be happy. I was his first relationship after he came out. His first fucking gay blow job. He had no good reason to be with me. He was hot and fresh to the gay world, he could have had anyone. If he wanted someone perfect I obviously was the right choice. So I broke up with him. I could keep him like that. It was wrong." My hands lift off my lap a little, so caught up in my feelings.

Mae nods, her face soften slightly, "You really believed he was too good for you? Do you still believe that?"

"Yeah, of course. But, at least now he has a hot boyfriend he really likes. I'm so glad I didn't ruin him and turn him straight again or something." 

"But don't you think you deserve to be in a happy relationship? Your parents are still married, aren't they? They are a good example of what loving someone can become. Nice house, couple kids, the whole thing," She pushes up her glasses and I look down in my lap.

"Well, yeah they're still married. But they've never been a lovey-dovey kind of couple. I think the only times I've ever see my dad kiss my mom is on valentines day and maybe her birthday. And, I think my mom is almost too scared. Or bored to kiss him first. I think, at this point, they're really only in a relationship because it's comfortable and stable and nonproblematic." I've always felt like this. My parents certainly have never been an ideal when it comes to relationships. I'm almost terrified to become them. To just settle. I don't want to settle. A sick, selfish part of me thinks I deserve more. 

When I make eye-contact with Mae, her eyes are soft and sad, and her lips pursed, "I can tell you're having a little inner battle right now. I understand it'd be hard to believe in something you've never been given proof for. It must be strange, being told so many great things about something, yet never enough. Never any evidence or fact behind it. You told me you're a probability person, one, didn't you?"

I lick my lips and nod, "Uh, yeah. I like probabilities. Like high school relationships. That's why I never really tried in high school. Because the chance of marrying your high school sweetheart is slim. And even then, it's unreliable because they are more likely to get divorced or cheat on each other. I feel like you should just save the heartbreak until you have a better chance."

Mae sucks in a breath like she's the one admitting all these sick and wrong feelings, "But what about the couples that got married when they were 17 and are celebrating 50 years? What about other relationships? Are you saying, because you waited to get in a real relationship, you'll never be on rocky waters?"

"Well, no. Just, more unlikely. Yet possible, I suppose nearly anything is possible, I just don't have the energy to look at how it's possible."

Her grin becomes big, and she nods her head, "Right! But that's something we can work on. Because you've always lived by this one perspective, you don't see the world any other way. But we can show you new perspectives to live by and include when considering something. It'll make things more clear. And joyful." 

I scratch the back of my neck, unsure, "Uh, yeah. Ok."

Mae chuckles at my response but I still can't get out of my head.