A Good Conversation

“I always loved a good conversation until I met Theodore.  He was the only one who was able to make me uncomfortable with myself and with the truth.” 

I didn’t want to look at my therapist because I wasn’t sure what she was going to say.  Sometimes I wondered if she either liked me or essential oils better.  I was surprised she had taken me on as a client due to the fact I didn’t quite fit her typical profile.  I think I had only been accepted because I had only slightly fudged my intake forms. 

But I had to see her.  I had to talk to her.  If I could understand her beliefs, I could understand my mother.  And if I could understand my mother maybe I could understand myself.  If I could understand myself, maybe I could get through these trials called ‘being a teenager.’  I wanted to be considered normal.  Wanted to be considered popular.  But I could never figure out why and for that, I blamed my mother. 

Theodore was the only one who could pull the honest truth out of me.  He was too open and too kind.  He was too good.  But could I focus on my time, energy and emotions onto someone who could throw me under the bus at any second? Or could I finally outwit my mother’s boyfriend?