Magema's fingernail pulled at a loose thread of stitching from the couch's arm. She still couldn't bring herself to lay down, no matter Maurice's insistence. "Am i wrong in assuming you're here for a little more than simple maintenance today Gem? You seem a little out of sorts."
She huffed, and gave her eyelashes a slow fan. As if to blink away her mood. This was so frustrating. She knew she was acting just like her more trying, reluctant patients. On the other side of the conversation, on Maurice's end, she understood how dogging this was, how draining sessions like were, and empathised. Why was it so difficult to follow your own advice? She wholeheartedly believed in the powers of counselling, of therapy, it was her profession for God's sake, and yet, here she was. Wasting both of their time.
Doctors make the worst patients. At the end of the day she was still human. As was Maurice, 'who was he to help me anyways?' The indignant thought snapped across her mind. Its fury left her ashamed as quick as she was angry in the moment.
It was a prickling, almost maddening level of irritation. To know what a tool, what an opportunity this was. How helpful it would be to hear herself say the words, and yet she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not today "i'm sorry, Moe, i know i'm being difficult. i don't know what it is, i'm just frustrated. Overwhelmed. My lower back feels nauseous, my stomach feels like its lost at sea."
"Lost at sea?"
"Oh don't mirror me, i'm not in the mood," her words rolled with her eyes, "i know the game."
"The game?" Maurice's hands held together, his fingers tapped like a steeple in front of his nose as he looked at her from above his glasses. His left dropped from his right, and he adjusted himself to a more comfortable position while he waited for her to speak.
Maurice didn't have to say it, he didn't have to look at the antique clock hanging beside them to remind her that this was in fact, her time. Neither of them had to be there, this was a professional courtesy. "You know we can talk about anything, the weather, sports, the kids? It doesn't have to be deep."
"No, listen Moe, i appreciate you, i'm just, haaaa, i'm in a mood today. Or, have been, for a while. i can't put my finger on it." Maurice left her words suspended in the room. "Objectively, you know, there's nothing wrong. The kids are wonderful, Able, is well Able. He annoys the hell out of me some days, but i can't imagine anyone or thing better. As much as i want space at times, i always want him around too. Even now. Even when i'm dreading going home to the chaos of our house, the dread is never rational. It feels like a crisis of sorts, i've felt it before. It comes and goes, it's nothing serious, it's life. Maybe it's hormones," she shrugged.
"You know its ok to not feel o-"
"Yes i know Maurice," Magema bit her thumb, "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to cut you off."
"The apology is appreciated Gem, though rest assured, i take no offence. We've all had days. We could talk about nothing if you like, cut it off early maybe? i'm also looking for film recommendations if you've seen anything interesting lately? Or perhaps we could dance around some of your patients?"
"Nothing to report. i may have made headway with my stoic architect, that's it." She snorted, "and God, films, it's all Disney and superheroes at the house, whatever the kids want. You know how it goes."
"Do you feel like you've lost yourself? To your kids, to your family?"
Magema's eyes moved across the smooth mid century oak desk tucked in the corner. She loved the furniture in Maurice's office, in his home too. Him and his partner shared exquisite taste. "Honestly, not at all," she let herself smile, "Well not in the movie department. Most of the stuff the kids watch is good anyways. They have our taste, perhaps we curated them, who knows. No it's not that, i think i'm just in a valley."
"In a valley?"
"Ya, i suppose that's more Able speak. i told you what he said? You know when we were getting serious and all that? The whole 'Happily Ever After' thing?"
"Yes, but remind me."
She shook her head, tucked some of her hair behind her ear, and went back in time to her mid-twenties. He had charmed her, her Able. His eyes danced as he spoke his almost nonsensical words. He told Magema of a phrase that had nagged him since he was a child, Happily Ever After. Those three words. Found at the end of all his favourite films, favourite books. The little bow that tied stories together. The words made sense, however the concept seemed absurd. What could it mean? How could you be happy all the time? How could he do it for himself?
Able spent hours thinking about the words, in fields, in transit, in his bed when he should be sleeping. For such a pleasant thought, it did nothing but plague him. Able couldn't imagine Happily Ever After in reality, and it tortured him. What would that life look like? Everything was ok? And safe? The safety, and certainty the phrase promised was exactly what, deep down, Able wanted. He wished it were true. That like a magick wand, a wedding, or two people falling in love, could be a lightswitch that vanished all of life's turmoil away. He wished, in the same way, that he could be atheist, that the moment you died, that that was that. Lights off and no more consciousness. The ride was over and you'd never even know it. You'd be gone.
Neither scenario made much sense to him, perhaps it was hubris. Able began unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he spoke to her, and showed Magema the tattoo across his chest, above his sternum. Starting below the cleft between his collar bones, moving across to the right were the words "i (in lowercase) am Happily Ever After." It was disjointed, asymmetrical, written in gorgeous, sweeping calligraphy. It looked wrong, it was imperfect, but it couldn't fit better. Without thinking Magema reached forward and traced the ink with her fingertips. After each letter she felt her full heart swell in reassuring increments.
His eyes held her’s as he continued. Years prior Able came to the conclusion that the only way to live Happily Ever After was to "be" Happily Ever After, as if it were a character. Better yet, a characteristic, a mantra, a mission. A state of consciousness. Not to live naively, or blind, but to understand that life was all up hill. That to be Happily Ever After wouldn't come from flipping a switch, that it was a discipline, a practise. It was Sisyphus's smile. He'd implemented it already, with fitness, gratitude journals, and an ever slipping meditation practice. Able squeezed her hand, his words were soft, but she felt them like thunder. "But, i don't just want to be Happily Ever After. i want to be Happily Ever After with you."
Magema stammered, "What...is this a proposal Able?"
"No!" laughter followed a flash of panic within his iris'. "No this isn't a proposal yet, i assure you that will be far more cinematic. No, i don't know, i guess i wanted to share this with you. i want you to know me. This is, i mean i don't want to sound dramatic, but my everything to some degree, this is how i structure my entire life. My entire day. We are all the writer's of our own stories, and i don't want to just be the main character, i want us to be it. i want to be teammates with you. i want to write this with you." He laughed, 'that Able laugh,' she sighed as she continued to recollect back to Maurice. “ 'i want to live Happily Ever After, is that so crazy? Don't answer that, i know it is. It's not that bad things won't happen over and over again- something will always knock, i know this. But i want to live knowing that despite the bullshit that life throws at me, the garbage i burden myself with, that happiness is always there. Sitting in the window of a different perspective. And i think that the key to doing that, is us. i think together, is the answer. Obviously it won't be easy, but aligned, we could be unstoppable. Together we could face death, or God herself if she chose to show her face. It’s unfortunate, no matter what, outside of a healthy perspective, we live a life of tragedy- death is around the corner not only for ourselves but everyone we hold dear. And if i am to be with someone, and i want that someone to be you, i want to know that we could face the worst of it, the worst imaginable and still persevere. That we could stand through disease, and poverty. i think we could face boredom, the seven year itch, and worse still. i want to know that, God forbid, we could face the death of a child together. i think we could, if we put in the work, we mentally get a head of things, create strong practises, i think we could do this."
"Able, i don't really want to talk about our future children dying, i'm not sure i even want to have any yet."
"Sure, sure, sorry, that was just to, you know, showcase extremes and stuff. But my point is, i don't even know, that i'm committed to living Happily Ever After, and i'd like that to include you too. Say something, i feel weird here. i'm trying to be romantic and now i feel like i'm standing on an edge or something. Vulnerable and sh-"
Magema cut him off with a kiss and a reassuring whisper of love. Able closed his hands around hers, and in many ways it felt like that moment, more than his future proposal, or their wedding day, had sealed their fate.
"Sealed your fate?" Maurice puzzled, "are those ideas that you subscribe to?"
"Oh, ah yes and no, i suppose. i choose to subscribe to them if that makes sense, i'd rather believe, than not, lets say. Regardless if it's true or not. It makes life more romantic, a dash of spice. Some cinnamon and cardamom in my coffee, a little treat. Besides, if Able and i were fated together it would've been further back then that conversation. He says it was love at first sight. i don't know about all that, but i did feel something the moment we met, some form of heartfelt vertigo."
"So fated in a good way?"
"Yes, i mean, damnit," she rolled her eyes again, and shook her head at herself. "You're going to get me sounding like Able now, but one of his assurances is that moments like this, in your office right now, are clues on how we already are 'Happily Ever After.' That we've always been. That being in these valleys, and choosing to move upwards are exactly what that phrase means. Embracing the ‘bad,’ or ‘uncomfortable,’ and choosing to see it as a good thing. That despite the fact that i feel lost, and garbage, in a slump, overwhelmed that i don't have a moment to myself, that i've somehow lost my own identity in the enormity of my own life, of my family, and my job- a career that i wanted, that against it all, the singular fact that i am here right now with you, trying to do something about my feelings, to fix- or better 'adjust' them, that i actually already am Happily Ever After. Whether i know it or not. Because i'm here, fighting. Through a rough day, or week, or month, or whatever this is. "
"So you are unhappy," Maurice's smug eyebrows jumped with his gentle mock "called it."
Magema rolled her eyes again, and started to laugh, "Is that what you got from that? It's a wonder you have any clients, or such a good reputation for that matter!"
"And not only did i get you to open up- which was excruciating, here you are smiling," he teased. "It just might be that i am the best shrink you know. You're very privileged to know me, my friend."
"Oh you are insufferable," she laughed. "But thank you, i do appreciate it all." With a look at the clock, "You know... i think i'm going to cut out early if you don't mind, i'm going to see if Able can watch the kids a little longer. Maybe go for a stroll, grab a burger by myself. See a movie."
"Don't ask him, tell him you need it. Politely" Maurices eyebrows jumped again, punctuating his advice. "He loves you. Trust it."
"Alright, alright," she bemoaned sarcastically. Magema's hand slid into the silky lining of her jacket’s arm, "i will. i'll see you soon. You're welcome for dinner this Sunday if you like? We're having a potluck thing with a few friends. Bring Mel and the girls for a family Sunday? We’ll make it a movie night, i’ll choose something good, one of my favourites."
thanks for reading!
-Mr. Write