Once The Luster Is Lost

Well sir, would it sound arrogant to say that the therapists like me? I've always thought that it was because I'm easy. Ask me a question, I'll give you an answer.

Now, I realize that I'm probably making myself sound a little bit crazy here. Therapists? Plural?

See the women in my life generally decide that I could use some help. Honestly, who don't?

The scenario usually runs along these lines: A well-meaning woman concludes that if I weren't crazy, I would be acceptable as a partner. Without much work, the professional determines that I am, indeed, crazy. Everybody's happy at this juncture. I already had my suspicions. The well-meaning woman feels validated and the therapist has finished the important work of shining light on darkness.

Of course it never stops here.

We should  probably see if we might figure out what the well-meaning woman is doing in the company of a crazy man. It's usually the beginning of the end about this time.

The pattern has the women concluding that the therapist "likes me more." I've always thought that the fact that I will tell anybody anything has just made for easy work for the therapist and, to an extent, I believe that's true.

It occurs to me now, though, that my intact sense of wonder has probably worked in my favor all along. Now, that does sound arrogant. Would it be better to describe myself as unsophisticated? Naive?

My point is that I have managed to hang onto all of the magic. I believe in it all.

Thank you Carolyn, Karen, Mike. I can't remember that guy's name in North Carolina but thank you, too. To the women- I probably should have just told you.