LXXXIII

Maybe She Was Right 

A young woman, full of anxiety, wrought with depression, gently sits down on a love seat in a small room. Glancing, in front of her, she sees her therapist, a middle-aged woman quite put together in proper Southern fashion. Together, they discuss her present ailments, the majority of which revolve around a guy. (I know that's not very feminist of me.) This guy, was introduced to her life story, through a message on a social media website. The main question lies, "Can he be trusted?" The man, slightly older than the woman, is plagued with crippling anxiety, which prevents him from talking on the phone or skyping, crippling this developing long-distant romance. The young woman is convinced, despite the distance and the anxiety, this man is what she wants. The therapist believes otherwise, for how can he continue to make her happy when he is hindered, left unable to communicate in the fashion she desire? He cannot fulfill the requirements placed upon him. Is that minor, something to be overlooked? Or is this a major predicament in the best interest of the young woman's safety because, after all, how is she comfortable meeting up with a man she has yet to meet? Consumed with fiery passion, the young woman is convinced the therapist must be mistaken. However, given some time, she is starting to realize, maybe, he isn't entirely who he claims to be.

And to think, before therapy today, I would have told you we belonged together, the man and I.