“The last time we spoke, you were really confident that just staying away from men and relationships was doing enough wonders for your mental state that you didn’t need therapy anymore.”
“Well…” I laughed weakly. “That’s what I thought.”
“And?”
I told her everything, as much as I could over the phone, and when I was done, she was silent for a long time.
“It’s understandable that you feel so betrayed. You had to give a lot to get yourself to trust him in the first place.”
“Exactly, which is why I need to move on, to find a new place and close the whole chapter.”
“Hmm…you mean isolate yourself again, throw away everyone who was involved in this episode of your life that made you unhappy. That might work.”
“It might, but I’m sensing that you don’t approve.”
“I believe the whole point of your whole experiment in celibacy was that you wanted to learn to appreciate real relationships with the people around you.
It’s not just him, you know—it’s also Amy, her family, her boyfriend…that’s a lot of progress to toss out the window.”
“I just don’t know what to do,” I said. “I want things to go back to the way they used to be when I wasn’t so miserable.”
“When you were alone. Alone is not the same as happy.”
“But it’s better than heartbroken.”
“Let me ask you something,” Anna said after a short pause. “How did you feel with him, before you found out he lied to you?”
A rush of longing flooded through me along with the memories of being in Jason’s arms. In my head, I heard him tell me he would always be there for me, and I yearned for the home I’d thought I had found in him.
“It doesn’t matter,” I told Anna. “It was all based on a lie.”
“All of it?” She didn’t sound convinced. “What if, let’s say, the lie was irrelevant? Would you choose how you felt with him over how things used to be?”
“The lie wasn’t irrelevant,” I insisted.
“Just humor me, Daphne.”
I closed my eyes, unwilling to face the seeds of hope and desire in my chest. “How much are you charging me for this phone conversation?”
She laughed. “Standard rates.”
“So cure me,” I pleaded, laughing weakly. “Tell me how to stop thinking about him.”
“I can’t tell you how,” Anna said patiently, “but I would advise you to listen to him.”
Why?
I was silent. I wanted to listen to Jason. I missed his intensity, his heat. I craved his touch, his voice, his blatant desire for me and how he so easily reduced me to a quivering mass of pleasure. I wanted desperately to believe whatever he told me just so I could be with him again, and that desire scared me. It scared me that I was willing to be a fool if it meant I would be with him.
“I can’t,” I replied.
“Listen to him,” she urged again, “and I’m telling you this as a friend, which means I’m not billing you.”
Listen to him.
Long after we ended the call, I lay on the soft cushions of the porch swing, watching the water as it came and went in the eternal movement of seas and oceans everywhere.
Listen to him.