The Therapist

I let it sink in for a minute before I finished what I had to say. "You need help, Ruth. You need real therapy, not that quack who tries to validate everything you say and justify everything you do. And when you find that therapist, you need to let them control the sessions. I know you and you need to control everything. You won't get where you need to go if you control the voyage. You need a real professional who can guide you through a process of self-examination so you can rid yourself of the ghosts and demons that haunt you from your youth. Please, promise me that you'll get real help."

I doubt she heard what I said. There were too many obstacles in her brain to prevent her from accepting guidance and the sad truth is that she was too much of a coward to face her demons. I'll confess that I struggled with the decision to divorce Ruth. I kept coming back to my vows and remembering "in sickness and in health". There was no doubt that Ruth was not well. In the end, I decided that sick or not, Ruth knew right from wrong, and betrayal is still betrayal.

It's been three years now since that fateful meeting with the therapist and I have moved on. The divorce was final a little over two years ago. We split our lives down the middle and I was ordered to pay support for three years. I have less than a year to go. I learned from all this that when love dies and the anger fades, all that remains is a profound sense of sadness and loss. I lost what was, but I lost that long before the divorce, and I lost what could have been if I ever had that to begin with. However, you don't go through life focusing on what you have lost. I moved across town, kept my friends as they eventually became the best therapy I had, and rebuilt my life with a new emphasis on the things that I had always enjoyed and too often surrendered because my wife wanted other things. In the process, I met a wonderful woman who shares my interests. We've both been burned before and we're taking it slow. I'm optimistic, but I'm not in a hurry.

As for Bill, well, he got a pass. I wasn't going behind bars just for a little payback. More importantly, Marie needed him to be earning a living so he could pay for her support. I figure he got what was coming to him.

I suppose that the whole sad experience has taught me an important lesson. I have learned that we can rebuild a good or even better life if we remember who we are, keep our eyes looking forward, and take advantage of what life offers us. As for my ex, I doubt she'll ever be happy. It simply isn't in her nature to embrace the joy life offers and live it. She will always be searching for something more than what she has while losing what is most important in the process, and all the while she will refuse to invest a part of herself in the lives around her. I'm sad for her, but I now know that I cannot change who or what she is and all I can do is move forward.

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For what it's worth, there are both good and bad therapists out there. It is a profession that seems to attract both the best and the worst of the community. Obviously, this story involved one of the worst.