my therapist is adorable She does things that make me feel that this crush is returned. (And for the record, I was crushing on her even before she told me she was also gay.) She tells me things that I don't think a therapist should be telling a patient. She calls for no reason. "No, I didn't leave my keys there," I say. "No, I didn't forget the time of my appointment, no I don't want to schedule another appointment this week. Here take my e-mail address." On a seemingly innocent evening I trekked down to one of my favorite West Village coffee spots, a place I had mentioned in therapy because I spend a lot of time there. I walked right by the place at first because I was meeting a friend around the way. I saw someone that resembled my therapist in the window, but then I thought, "What are the odds in a city of eight million??" I collected my friend and headed towards the spot. As soon as I entered I felt my therapist's eyes on me. Thanks to my friend, I was given all the important information. Yes, she's staring at you. Wait, she just checked me out. Yuck, the girl she's with is a hag. Oh my god, here she comes. She walked right by me. Even said excuse me. We decided to just get a cup to go instead of keeping the tension up. She walked by again, returned to her table. I paid for my coffee and left. My evening was filled with me pondering the situation. Then in the morning I got an e-mail from her. It simply said, "Yes. It was me." She's out of town right now in the Catskills. We have a phone session scheduled in 30 minutes to talk about what happened. I've gotten the advice that I should try to address the issue of potential attraction, but this is just too much fun. All the obsessing. But is it therapy then? -- the girl least likely to... Friday, February 02, 2001 |
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