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I gave her a weak smile.
“Was that a joke?” she asked me, her brows furrowed.
I cleared my throat.
“Yeah, or, um, my lame attempt at one, anyway. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s healthy. Humor is a defense mechanism. If you can recognize that, it can help get to the bottom of what is hurting you.”
I never really thought about it that way. It wasn’t a physical sort of hurt. But there was definitely something going on. Something that kept me from thinking too much about all that had happened.
“Tell me about your sister,” Dr. Benoit prompted.
Oh boy, that was a big one. I couldn’t really dive into that whole emotional mess. Not least because I only got Raquel as a sister because my daddy died.
I might have still had a full-blooded sister if that hadn’t happened. My mom was young enough to have had another child, but it wouldn’t have been Raquel, and everything that was going on with her was tied in part to that.
Especially because she had lost her mom at a similar age. I felt responsible for her and tried to do my best, but then she had gone and done this.
“We used to be close,” I said, my eyes filling.
I wasn’t really sure of that anymore, though. I always tried to be kind and helpful, but Raquel was always pretty quiet. Then she hit puberty, and the hormones must have done something to her because there were times when she could be more than a she-devil, both to my mom and me.
I guess as she got older, she might have resented her dad marrying so soon after her mom’s death or something. Maybe she thought my mom and I were trying to steal her dad away.
I started to feel really foolish for thinking we had ever been close. I was ready to leave it all behind.
“But that’s boring,” I said. “I’m ready to move on to a happier future. I can’t do anything about the past.”
She nodded like she wasn’t convinced.
“Have you been trying to keep busy?”
“As much as I can,” I said.
“Oui, I understand. But could you be a bit more specific?”
“Well, like I said, walking in the woods helps. I’ve been going to the park more and just walking because I don’t do much writing anymore. I’ve also taken a job as an administrative assistant, so I have enough money to eat and cover my rent, since I haven’t been able to write enough.”
“Oui, I quite understand,” Dr. Benoit repeated. “How is your dating life?”
“I-I don’t really have one,” I stammered.
Truth be told, I hadn’t even really thought about such things until just today when I had unexpectedly met Gavin. I had been too shocked and upset by what Kenny had done with Raquel, an image that still made me feel sick just thinking about it, to even consider a love life.
I hadn’t even touched myself in the six months that had passed. Perhaps a self-administered orgasm or two might help.
I was hardly going to mention Gavin to her, of course. It seemed a bit too crazy to be into a guy I had just met minutes before, and under such strange circumstances.
“You should consider it. I know you’ve been hurt, but what better way to reclaim yourself than to find someone who genuinely loves you? You are still young and deserve to be happy.”
“I know… but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be to move on.”
I started to think about Gavin again, now that I had basically been given permission to date him by this wise French therapist. I couldn’t help but wonder where that would lead and how it might affect me emotionally and physically.
I was afraid to trust anyone with my heart again, but Gavin seemed like such a good guy who had helped me when he hadn’t needed to. And despite my mental reluctance, my body was more than willing. A big reason I wanted to see him again was because I couldn’t wait to have sex with him.
Dr. Benoit started recommending some books to me about fierce self-love. I got out my notebook and made a list.
“Thank you,” I told her. “This has been very helpful. I’ll look more into these resources when I get home.”
“Yes, and come back and see me in two weeks, oui?” she said, opening up the calendar on her computer and pointing her mouse to the correct date.
“Um, I think I can,” I told her.
I hadn’t given much thought to whether I wanted to come to therapy long term.
Couldn’t I just listen to one of these audiobooks and be healed?
“Well, dear, why don’t you just let me know, then?” she asked, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “You have my number, and you are free to keep coming to see me until you’re on a healthier path, okay?”
