Thursday, March 24, 2016


So you made it to the end, did you? Congratulations, and thanks for reading. I appreciate that you’ve allowed me to share this sliver of my life with you.

It really is strange, to look back on the person I was fifteen years ago. As I read through this journal, I experienced a few sparks of recognition, but for the most part I rolled my eyes. Particularly when, in the very last entry (the one you’ve just read), I caught myself in a lie.

Did you notice that line that “He fantasises about our wedding”? Yeah? That stood out like a sore thumb? Well, it should have, because it isn’t true.

What Lawrence really said that day was that he fantasises about attending MY wedding (not OURS) as a guest—not as the groom. He told me he had this happy idea in his head that one day I would meet a nice young man and we’d get married, and Lawrence would see me in my white dress, smiling and oh-so-happy, and he’d be over the moon with delight.

But that’s not what I wrote in my diary.

I specifically remember that lie, because I told it to my friend Christie, too, as some pre-emptive measure of saving face. And that’s only the lie I remember! I can’t help wondering how much more of this material was fabricated by a 19-year-old me, in an attempt to assuage my own fears that he didn’t love me like I wanted him to. I guess I knew, deep down, that I was investing far too much energy in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere.

Now I’m wondering if you’re wondering what happened after July 2nd of the year 2000. If you don’t want to know, then stop reading now.

You can’t stop, can you?

Maybe you’ll be bored to discover that Lawrence and I waited out the Ontario government’s legislation. What I didn’t know at the time was that this “legislation,” as I refer to it in the diary, was a document released in April 2000, called Protecting Our Students: A Review to Identify and Prevent Sexual Misconduct in Ontario Schools. To this day I’ve never read it (the behemoth is listed on Google Books as being 569 pages long), so I can’t verify there’s really a rule dictating that a student and teacher must wait a full year after the student graduates before beginning a sexual relationship. I still couldn’t tell you whether this is law or Ontario College of Teachers best practices or complete hearsay.

At any rate, by the end of Summer 2000, Lawrence had confided in me that being in contact was too much temptation. We had a “tearful goodbye” day at the end of August and managed to stay out of touch for… oh, about three weeks. I started university, fell into a terrible depression, tried and failed to extract myself from the relationship/non-relationship, and that contact/non-contact continued for two full years before we ever went to bed together.

I still have the hotel receipt. The hotel itself has since been torn down.

The first time we had sex, I remember thinking, “I hope I never have to do this again.”

But we did. Again and again. I fictionalized that portion of the relationship in an erotic series called Audrey & Lawrence, which highlights the wild emotions, spanning from jealousy to schadenfreude, that a mistress experiences during an affair with a married man. The stories are fictional, but the emotions are real.

My relationship with Lawrence came to an end eight years ago, when I fell in love with a woman who, strangely enough, shared his birthday. My 18-year-old self would have found that tidbit deeply intriguing. Anyway, Lawrence didn’t take the split well and we haven’t kept in contact, though he still sends me a Christmas card every year.

So, do I regret the affair? Probably less than he does. Lawrence always had such a guilty, shame-filled spirit. I have no idea whether he’s still teaching, as he’s well beyond retirement age, but I wish him well whatever he’s up to. I remember him often saying he was worried he would ruin my life.

He didn’t. Only I hold that power.

Wednesday, March 23, 2016


Shall I start at the very beginning?

I barely slept. How could I? I went to bed in the black bra and thong I bought especially for today, just in case Lawrence surrendered to temptation and took me to a hotel. Wore the short grey dress my mom always says is too see-through to leave the house in. The grey dress, no pantyhose, and my black platform sandals.

Left early, took the bus to the subway. When the driver didn’t pull into the station, I started to panic. I asked him what was going on. Turns out the subway doesn’t run until 9 on Sunday mornings. How did I go 19 years without ever knowing that?

I asked the driver how on earth I was supposed to get to my destination when the subway wasn’t running, but he didn’t have much to say. “You’ll have to take a bus, I guess. Or walk.”

Walk? Walk 7 kilometers before 8 in the morning?

He gave me a transfer and I managed to catch a bus along Eglinton, but my second bus wasn’t scheduled to come for another 45 minutes! How could I possibly wait that long? It would be almost 9 before I got to the station.

So I walked. Raced. Ran, until my sandals cut between my toes and my feet bled. Then I had to slow my pace, which was worrying for three main reasons:

1) Even on a Sunday morning, the area was sketchy as hell;
2) Some of my dad’s family lives nearby and they were the last people I wanted to see wearing a see-through dress;
3) It was already after 8 and who knows if Lawrence was still waiting? Maybe he’d left…

I was hobbling by the time I got close to the golf course, and that’s when I spotted something in the street.

A fox.

A dead fox, crushed by cars, lying in the road with its guts hanging out of its belly.

For the first time during this whole race to the station, I stopped. I stopped and stared and I had a terrible, ominous feeling. I identify strongly with foxes, for obvious reasons. The fox was me, and just look at it. Dead.

When I got to the little parking lot outside the subway station, Lawrence’s awful little shitbox of a car was waiting for me, and he was inside reading the paper. I told him what had happened and how afraid I was that he would leave.

He said, “I was going to. I was sure you’d changed your mind.”

But I would never do that. Never.

Lawrence gave me bandages for my toes, and I put them on as we drove, retracing the steps I’d just run. He asked where we were going and I said, “To a hotel?”

He just laughed.

Wouldn’t you think he’d have something planned, after all that time thinking about it? But he didn’t have any plans at all, so we drove to Edward’s Gardens.

I always hate it when people breed in public places; I guess I got my chance to repay some karmic debt. He fantasises about our wedding—that’s what he told me. What can I say? It’s not something I’ve ever caught myself doing, but to each his own.

Our first kiss was strange. Maybe I just wasn’t expecting it when he tried to pry my teeth open with his tongue and ended up licking my gums instead. I guess I got used to it quickly enough, though, because we didn’t stop making out even when other people walked by our park bench.

Just kisses. Just mouths. No hands, even. We were in public, after all. It actually surprised me that he’d kiss me with other people around. What if Victoria’s friends saw us together? Or Kennedy’s, or Bess’s? Wasn’t he worried about things like that? He just couldn’t help himself, I suppose. I could hear his passion in every breath he took, like he wanted to throw me down and take me right there in the park, and it took every bit of effort imaginable just to keep his clothes on.

As for me? After so much wishing and waiting, the physical affection made me feel sort of… weird. Different than what I expected. It’s hard to describe. Good or bad? I’m not really sure yet.

After Edward’s Garden, we drove downtown until I wasn’t exactly sure where we were. He took me to a restaurant and we ate on the patio. I felt like people were staring, and not in a good way.

I didn’t have much to say, I suppose, because he kept telling me, “You’ve gone silent again.”


So no hotel after all. Not that I was surprised. That’s one rule Lawrence would never break.

He dropped me back at the subway, which was running by then, so I came straight home. The whole family was out. I went to my room, got out a pack of crayons, and drew pictures of apples.

Lawrence feels that it’s wrong of him to be in Love with me, but I can’t help thinking of that line from The Grapes of Wrath: “Maybe there ain’t no sin and there ain’t no virtue; there’s just stuff people do. And some things folks do is nice and some things ain’t so nice, but that’s as much as any man got a right to say.”


Tuesday, March 22, 2016


Dream: Damned Precognition

-it’s about 7:30 in the morning and I’m at the Town Centre
-I take my watch to a clock store to get it put into a box or something
-time to spare, so I head toward a Dairy Queen. I see some people from school and spend time with them, but then I realize it’s 7:51 and I’m supposed to be at Vic Park subway in 9 minutes
-get to the RT and—uh oh!—the subways/RTs aren’t running! Great! Panic!

Monday, March 21, 2016


Here’s a world I haven’t visited in some time. Introspection sometimes escapes one when it is most needed.

So what is my ultimate concern? That I will lose my Self. That all the lessons I worked so hard to integrate into my life will escape me. That I will feel trapped, or that his mind is too changeable for me to ever feel secure with. I’ve been placed out on the windowsill to cool. He can’t expect me to stay hot. I am warm, at best.

I feel like I’ve lost so much already, and I am now struggling to put everything back in place.

The longer I am made to wait, the more I doubt myself. Maybe this isn’t what I want after all. The trouble is, I just don’t know anymore. I’m tired of being so unsure about everything.

When will I truly learn to Love?


Sunday, March 20, 2016


Dream: Helplessness

-subway travel
-I’m trying to find Lawrence but I have to leave the TTC system first
-he’s in school with Kennedy. Kennedy is holding a $20 bill and asks me to dinner. I accept
-later, Lawrence and I go out but he says he’ll drive the car around the block, so I walk around the block to meet him
-a man starts yelling at me then runs out and picks me up by the neck
-I scream for help, but only one woman tries and no one else notices
-I escape the man and run to Lawrence, but he isn’t in the car at first
-he comes back and I tell him to drive but he doesn’t and a woman we know is looking at him and saying hello
-later, we’re at a buffet and the family is all there. The buffet is gourmet and we are performing A Man For All Seasons, in which I am playing the wife
-Lawrence has to return books and videos that cost $238.38 to rent
-he bought a different car and is with an East Indian man. They’re going on a trip
-the bathrooms at the restaurant are very open. Toilets with no stalls

Saturday, March 19, 2016


Dream: Minako

-I’m harbouring a “felon” although I don’t feel that’s what she is. She’s a beautiful Hispanic woman and she clings to my arm as we stand at the front door
-there’s a man with a gun outside, but I’m not afraid. He’s after her, not me
-my only concern is for her. I need to keep her safe from harm

What does he tell me? He can’t do July 1st. Yes, I know he cancelled and I cancelled and we both cancelled at some point or another, but after waiting so long wouldn’t you think he’d keep the date open?

Kennedy’s doing some sort of summer exchange overseas. His plane leaves on the 1st and Lawrence is committed to being at the airport to see him off. I know I shouldn’t be angry, because it’s a decent enough excuse, but I am angry. Enraged, more like. Because, once again, I come in last place.

Victoria matters. Kennedy matters. Bess matters. I don’t matter.

But he did propose an alternative: July 2nd. I suppose I should be pleased, but part of me wonders if I should have stayed away. In fact, part of me knows quite certainly I should have stayed away. I couldn’t, of course.

July 2nd it is.

We’re meeting at Vic Park subway station at eight in the morning. I’m not exactly pleased with the early start time, but he’ll be telling his wife that he’s playing golf with Mr. York, and apparently people play golf early in the morning, so I don’t really have a say.

I don’t know what kind of excuse I can come up with that’ll get me out of the house so early.


Friday, March 18, 2016


Dream: Twilight Time

-I’m at a strip club and find that Andrew is one of the strippers. He pulls me up on stage with him
-when I get home it’s twilight and Jane is standing on the driveway. She’s my daughter rather than my sister
-my aunt is there and she says Jane’s father is here, too
-it’s Kennedy

Dear Lawrence,

Maybe we should talk. What are you doing July first? I’m not promising anything, but perhaps we could revive the plan we made to meet on the first day I’m officially no longer a student. If you decide that you would like to see me, I’ll be there.

I don’t know how you feel, but I’m comfortable with the way we left things. If you would rather not, I’ll understand. Sometimes I miss you a lot and sometimes I’m happy to have my life to myself.

Did you know how badly I wanted to kiss you that day we went to the McMichael Gallery? Even in the car, every time we came to a red light I wanted to lean over and sniff your neck. Do you remember lunch on the patio at that restaurant you took me to, with the little green things falling from the trees? We had to put our coasters over our water glasses.

You told me you would never forget that day, or the way you felt. We were so happy then. Do you remember sitting together in your classroom after school and simply admiring each other? And how wonderful it felt to be in Love? And that surge of desire when we touched?

Desire for you still flows through my veins, as much a part of my body as my blood or my skin. Please know that I Love you and that I can’t look at you without wanting you to hold me. You truly are the man of my dreams. I know you don’t believe it, but it’s true. You look delicious. I could just devour those lips, those thighs, that neck.

I can’t imagine a more ideal partner.


Thursday, March 17, 2016


A long-awaited revelation. How to begin?

I have finally realised what I’m worth, and I’m finding that my way of life contradicts my value. Pearls before swine, although that is rather harsh. I don’t know where I’m finding the strength to do this. I value this relationship over everything in the world, except my Self. I guess the Self always wins out in the long run, and so it should, but that doesn’t make this process any easier.

I need to be valued enough to be the only woman in a man’s life. If not this man’s, then someone else will have to come along, in time.

Until then? I didn’t enjoy depression the first time. I wonder if it gets better the second time around. I Love Lawrence. I’m still in love with him. BUT, I need to be valued. I can’t say, “her or me,” because I always told myself I would never force a man to make that choice. I am worth an exclusive relationship, though.

This isn’t a matter of choosing between two women, or at least it shouldn’t be. He needs to choose whether or not he wants to stay in his marriage. That choice should be made without the consideration of an outside relationship.

He isn’t thinking that way, though. The question he’s asking himself is, “Should I leave Victoria for Giselle?” rather than “Do I want to stay in my marriage, or do I want to leave?”

Old patterns, old patterns. How do I handle them, Shiva? If Lawrence remains married, then what we have here is over before it began.

I know; even I’m not convinced.

This isn’t a matter of morals or principles or anything as trivial as that. I have finally realised that I DESERVE a real relationship with a partner. I deserve a man who will call me and who doesn’t mind being seen in public with me, and who isn’t afraid of being caught. I need a man who will spend the night with me, who doesn’t say “I can’t do this” every time I place his hand against my body, and especially someone who doesn’t think it’s wrong to be in love with me.

I’m sure that Lawrence could be all these things if he weren’t so afraid. I can’t change him, though; I wouldn’t dream of it. If he isn’t ready, I’m not prepared to wait around until he is.


Wednesday, March 16, 2016


Dream: AH! CLEAN! NOW!

-Hurry hurry clean the house fast now now hurry!
-my brother is having a birthday party and I’m cleaning the house like mad trying to get all the dishes put away NOW, running, rushing about
-my cousin comes over and comments that the table is wet—I’ve just washed it and there’s a black ring where water has obviously rotted the wood
-mum and my cousin leave to pick up a pizza
-Andrew is in the family room and we decide to have sex, so we go to my old room, which is somehow his, then I realise he isn’t Lawrence and we’d have to worry about birth control. Oh. So, no sex. Too bad. Maybe next time

It’s really incredible, when I think of it… how much I cried, and how hard it was to get out of bed and especially how much I hated being alive.

I don’t even know what changed. I just hope I never have to be that sad again. What an experience. At one point, I was crying all the time, and then after a while I wasn’t crying as much, but that’s when I stopped sleeping. I started taking St. John’s Wort because I knew I needed to do something to help myself. The first thing that did was improve my sleep patterns.

Eventually, I started feeling a bit less sad. I had a few good days mixed among all the bad ones. Then, I had some days when I didn’t cry at all. Soon enough, those days became weeks, and that’s where I’m at now. I don’t know if this is the end of the story, but I am very grateful to be feeling happy again.


Tuesday, March 15, 2016


Dream: Twice a Usurper

-I have three rings on my fingers: a cheap gold ring on my middle and ring fingers of my right hand. On my left hand’s ring finger, I’m wearing Lawrence’s wedding ring
-I don’t remember him giving it to me. It’s too big and I have to keep checking that it hasn’t fallen off
-I’m in a pool and eventually the ring is gone. I dive to the bottom and discover that the pool has small indentations. I check them all for his ring, but without panic, because I know I’ll find it. I can hold my breath for a very long time
-outside the pool, my bathing suit is on the ground and I pick it up. Two dollars and a dime fall off of it, so I know the ring must be there too
-it is
-some time later, at a party, Leslie and I escape the people and Lawrence follows. We sit at a table and I take Lawrence’s ring off my finger and put it on a plate
-the ring has been inside-out all this time
-he laughs and tells me to keep it
-I protest a bit, asking if Victoria had not noticed it was gone
-of course she had; a few times, in fact. First he told her he must have “misplaced it, I don’t know, and who really cares and I don’t need it.”

Monday, March 14, 2016


Dream: Usurper!

-posters all over the walls, windows of the place (hall?) I’m in
-brightly-coloured, each a different shade
-black letters, big, on each one: USURPER!

What are the chances?

Honestly, what are the chances that I would go to the mall to interview for a retail job and the first person I encounter in the store is George? I had no idea he worked there. His initial reaction seemed like he would just keep walking, but then he made another choice. He took me under his wing and helped me find the hiring manager. We chatted and it was alright.

I guess George knows better than to hold against me the sins of the father—the sins of Lawrence.

As I waited for my interview, I encountered two men, one of whom was wearing a wedding ring. The three of us talked for half an hour, as though we knew each other. The married one seemed be very anxious to be acknowledged by me. They made me KNOW that I am a beautiful, desirable woman.

By the end of our chat, the married one seemed intent upon setting me up with the other gentleman, who did make an impact upon me, but didn’t seem to want to become involved in his friend’s game.

Regardless, I have their cards. They made me feel like a woman.


Sunday, March 13, 2016



Last year around this time, I asked you to state your intentions. At that point, you didn’t feel that you were in any position to answer my questions. You felt it would be inappropriate. And, while I realize I am still a student at the school where you teach, so much has changed since then that I hope you’ll consider answering.

So, this year I am going to make the same request. I feel that, by now, you must have at least a sense of where we are headed. I think I know, but I need to hear the words.

What are your intentions?

Have you taken the time to reflect upon the past year? If you haven’t, you should. When was the last time your life changed so much in one year?

Or maybe it isn’t your life that has changed; you have changed. The thought of how you’ve grown brings tears to my eyes. I know what a struggle it can be, and how painful at times, but all your angels see throughout the process is the splendour of a rose bud that desperately wants to blossom.

In time it will all unfold. Just let it happen.

I get the sense that my words don’t express the intensity of my emotion. I am very proud of you. You hear that? This is coming straight from my heart: I am so proud of you, Lawrence. I have challenged everything you’ve ever believed, and you’re still in one piece.

You treat me with respect even when you don’t understand me, and you’re patient with me when I don’t understand you. You took it upon yourself to play every role that needed to be filled in my life, and you did so with a grace and beauty of which you probably imagined yourself incapable. You have changed my life.

I know that you may doubt yourself sometimes, but I have always known that you are truly a good man.

You were alive more than thirty years before I was born. It has suddenly occurred to me that, in that time when you were alive and I wasn’t, I must have been your angel!


Saturday, March 12, 2016


Dream: James Bond

-bad guys are the mayor from the sitcom “Spin City” and some other guys
-at first I’m a good guy, but then I join up with them
-most of the dream takes place upstairs by the computer
-I remember eating candy and trying to build a boat to escape James Bond

I feel so powerless. In the end, it makes no difference what I want because I have no say in life anyway. I have so much shame. The horrible things I have done! I deserve every bit of the pain I’m feeling. I’ve earned it. My actions warrant no less.

Who am I to feel jealous? Who am I to think that I’ve been wronged? I have taken something beautiful and made it as ugly as I am.

How could I have done this? I ruined it, I ruined it, I ruined it, I ruined it…


Friday, March 11, 2016


Dream: In My Room

-descending a long narrow staircase into my room
-it’s somehow supposed to be the bathroom, but it’s also my bedroom and TV sitcom characters are in there
-Frasier and Martin Crane are sleeping standing up against the wall, and they keep arguing with each other like nags
-Frasier keeps his sexuality in the freezer of an old fridge in my room
-on the floor, there’s a large canvas whereupon the sky is painted light blue. My synthetic cubist piece for art class is there too
-at some point, I have to write my art exam, but I can’t even remember my teacher’s name
-upstairs, mum has bought my brother slim Mexican cigarettes. You don’t buy a man slims

I’m not feeling. It’s a wonder that most people go through life like this when it’s causing me such distress. I’m not even conscious. Sometimes it amazes me that I even bother getting out of bed in the morning.

What do I do to make the world a better place? If I weren’t here, would anyone even know the difference? What’s the point in leaving the house, or waking up, for that matter? How do I help to alleviate the pain of those who are suffering? What impact do I make on the world?


If I ceased to exist, who would erect a monument in my honour? Some life.

What is wrong with me? How did I arrive at this place? I can’t believe that I’m such a wreck! And for what? It just doesn’t seem worth it. Life isn’t worth the trouble.


Thursday, March 10, 2016


Poem: I’m Not Your TV Dinner

I’m not your TV dinner, you bastard.
Contemptuous thorn,
and you try to negate
That you vacuum-packed me
in cling-wrappy plastic
when I offered myself to you
on a plate.

And how dense am I?
It took months to discover
I’d been thrown in the deep-freeze.
You fear a new lover.

So what do you do
with this raspberry truffle,
so eager to be what you want?

Maybe I don’t even need to escape—
I’m sure Swanson’s
would envy my staying power—
when I travel the earth half-asleep,
Pretending I’m more than just Lady of the Hour.

Why wouldn’t I let the ice
nurture my wounds?
My veins are still burning.
My blood just won’t freeze.

I’m fighting, rebelling.
I’m stronger than you.
Don’t pretend you’re not
such a God-damn tease.

Wednesday, March 9, 2016


Well, kiddo, sometimes you have to. Sorry, that’s just the way it is.

but… but… but…

I know, BUT, you need to look out for yourself at this point. Your needs contradict his laws. So… prove to him that you can be trusted. No, even that isn’t good enough and you know it. Prove to him that his laws are not the laws of the Universe.

That’s quite a task and I’m not sure that it’s within my capabilities.

Everything is within your realm of capabilities. Remind him that he was prepared to meet with you July 1st before this legislation came into effect. Remind him of his heart’s desire, of his body’s desire. Remind him that he is loved and that he is beautiful.

Above all this reminding, though, surrender your relationship to God. Entrust it to the Universe. A force that holds galaxies together can certainly handle your relationship.


Tuesday, March 8, 2016


You moron! You bastard! How can you do this to me?

Shut up. Don’t patronize me.

Again with the lies. Again, withholding the truth from me. Again, I have to find things out from Christie after she hears them from Ms. Pape.

I don’t care about anyone’s legislation. That doesn’t concern me. But you should have been the one to tell me, Lawrence. You’re always complaining about all kinds of boring legislative, political, and academic stuff. Why wouldn’t you have told me that the province changed its rules about when a teacher and a student can begin a romantic relationship? Didn’t you think I would consider that pertinent information? Christie obviously did, if she went to the trouble of breaking news to me that she knew I’d find upsetting.

So, what happens to our July 1st plans? Obviously we can’t do anything, if the law says we need to wait a full YEAR after I graduate before we can be together. And I know you better than to think you’d ever break the rules. You care more about teaching than you care about me. We both know that.

Lawrence, I need you. Now! I’ve been so patient. You know I have. It isn’t fair to make me wait an entire year after I graduate. It’s hard enough to make myself wait until July. It’s killing me. I don’t want to wait any longer.

I can’t keep doing this. I love you now. NOW. I have been so patient. You know that. You’ve watched. You can’t take away my reward now. It isn’t fair. You can’t do this to me. I Love you.

I’ve been so patient for so long.

This isn’t fair.


Monday, March 7, 2016


May Day! May Day!

I am so sorry for wanting what I want.

I’m sorry, Victoria.

I’m sorry, Kennedy.

I’m sorry, Bess.

I never meant to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.

I Love him.


Sunday, March 6, 2016


Dream: Ahh

-Mr. Dupont drives me home, and his car is old and blue and rusty and falling apart
-when he pulls into the driveway, I ask how he knew where I lived
-he reluctantly informs me that he’d seen the “bouquet” of flowers I had given Lawrence (this must have happened in a previous dream?)
-Mr. Dupont is concerned that the frost or rain will kill the flowers
-now I remember that the flowers were an assortment in a decorative pot

Saturday, March 5, 2016


Dream: Bus Fare (In Change)

-got on the bus to go to school and sat at the back, but the driver stopped and forced me (and some other people) off the bus because his religion was against the way I paid (in change)
-had to stay home from school for 2 days, but on the second day decided to go to University of Toronto
-stopped off at school to look for a map of Toronto because I didn’t know how to get to the university. I looked everywhere, but couldn’t find a map, didn’t know how to get there

Friday, March 4, 2016


Dream: Chester? Marry? Me?

-Wow. Telling dream. An old man is my mentor. He is nothing but derogatory, but very knowing and uses that knowledge against me
-he asked Chester to marry me
-Chester? Marry? Me?
-more than anything, I was excited to realise that Chester was back in my life. Wonderful man. Wise. More so than I. Enough that I am almost in awe of him
-Chester finds my lust for him sort of amusing, I think, and never gives me the impression that he’s flattered by it or needs my affection. Of course he doesn’t. He’s already married to a wife he loves
-my flirtation always seems to be greeted with a feeling of “Okay… moving right along…”
-funny that I am never insulted by that. I don’t think his intention was ever to insult me or hurt me, only put me off
-the dream turns lucid and I say to myself, “Chester is probably here to represent Lawrence.”
-I tell my mentor off for asking Chester if he wanted to marry me. “What? You did what? I don’t want to marry him. Why would you ask him that?”
-then I’m in a room with other people around, but who? Children, I think. They feel like children, though I can’t visualise them and I can’t remember what we were talking about

Lawrence has a therapist, Ms. Pape has a therapist, Christie’s been in therapy for years. All I have is Oprah, Iyanla Vanzant, a whole lot of Jung and self-help books from the public library.

What is it that I’d want out of therapy, if I could afford it?

Well, I want to be saved from myself, but I sense that is not a reasonable expectation. I want to be delivered from my guilt… from ALL my guilt. Oh God, that could take years! I guess I’ve been thinking of long-term solutions, primarily, but in the short term I would like not to be so sad all the time.

I want my drive back; I want to be a motivated person again. I want to WANT to be somewhere. If it’s in school, that’s great; if it’s driving a bus or whatever, that’s fine too. I just want to want something for myself.

I want not to have to be in control of everything.

I want to enjoy life again.


Thursday, March 3, 2016


I know that you wish I could just disappear. I know sometimes you probably wish you could disappear, too. I also know that you want the part of your heart that still needs me to stop feeling.

It isn’t that easy. I am not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try, you will not alienate me. No matter how unavailable you make yourself, I am not giving up on you.


Wednesday, March 2, 2016


Oh, hi Lawrence! Could you care about me a little less? Because how I’m feeling really isn’t all that important. So, can you keep neglecting me, please? And don’t bother answering my questions; it’s not like I actually care how you feel about me.


Tuesday, March 1, 2016


To Dr. Sherbourne:

Do you even realize what you’re doing? My Lawrence only pulled you in because he needs someone to tell him he’s been a bad boy. Well, bravo, because you’re doing a fucking good job of that.

Who the fuck are you? What makes you think that you’re in any position to tell him he’s done something wrong? He hasn’t done anything at all! How dare you instruct him never to speak to me again? You talk to my Lawrence for one hour and you think you can take control of his life? I don’t think so.

What’s happening here? I just don’t know anymore. I’ve lost my centre. I’m so disconnected. I worry. I knew Lawrence would pull in a therapist who would just reflect his self-loathing back at him. What good does that do?

I hate myself. How could I have become such a failure? Why has nothing ever worked out for me? Why won’t Lawrence simply surrender?

And now he quite mournfully states that he can never speak to me again.

Why was I never good enough?

Where do I go from here?