Now I see how selfish I was and how I rambled about my high school indulgences, but her investment in the narrative that came from my heart and my head and my fears--that was all I needed.
Fall 2009
Doctor Friend
It was one hour every-other Thursday at seven
through high school but that had almost
nothing to do with it
It started with my father saying bitch and
didn’t have a definitive end because there
was a job so I stopped
She saw me every time
I sat on a white couch with obnoxious red flowers
and more throw pillows than I could squeeze
between to sit comfortably
I stared at the short legs of the brown leather arm chair
and memorized the simple pattern of the olive green
carpet worn thin by drumming feet
There was always a Diet Coke—with a bent straw
stained by dark pink lipstick—that sat on the glass
side table amid messy stacks of notes
The walls were lined with shelves which were loaded
with volumes on abuse and eating disorders and anxiety
and they all had wordy titles
She watched me every time
She wore nice outfits because she made nice money
but there never was enough color in her attire
to match how pretty she was
She did her makeup in a way that made her blue eyes
look less anatomical and more like jewelry that matched
her diamond ring and silver cross
Her nails were always painted and cheeks were always blushed
whether she was smiling in her joy for me or grimacing with
empathy or something like it as I spoke
She sat with her legs crossed and hands folded mostly looking
quite composed and comfortable but her bouncing
foot said otherwise
She heard me every time
I shared stories of my world and received advice as it was her job
to dissect my issues and hear my joys as our lives were lived
and hour by hour, years passed
She changed me every time
For Stephanie
again I shall comment.as a loyal follower and someone who KNOWS how true these words are.
ReplyDeleteI miss my doctor friend.
thats all.