Session Fourteen
SESSION FOURTEEN
DESERT FLOWER THERAPY
“You lied to your family about Gabriel.” Dr. Ruben taps his chin as he assesses me.
“By then, I was lying all the damn time.” I shrug, not because I don’t care, but because what does it matter ?
“You stayed with him.”
“I loved him. And he was still Gabriel, you know? He maintained a job and our home, he mowed the lawn, paid bills. A bystander would’ve had a difficult time peering in and seeing his problem.” I clear my throat. I feel foolish now, thinking back to what I ignored, and explained away. “I read a story about a woman whose husband was abusive, but only when he drank. She stayed for a long time, because they had kids and the abuse was infrequent. After I read it, I remember thinking everything was ok in my marriage, because my husband wasn’t hitting me.”
“Comparative suffering.”
“Exactly. I did that a lot. I sought out stories that were worse than mine, then told myself I didn’t have anything to complain about.”
“Did he drink at home?”
“Not that I knew of, in excess at least, but I don’t think that means much. Our schedules made it so we weren’t home at the same time as often as some couples.”
“What did you do during all the time you were alone?”
“I read a lot of books.”
Dr. Ruben’s gaze sweeps over my face. The mask of detachment he usually wears has slipped. He looks like I feel.
We have arrived at the final part of my story.
This. Is. It.