Therapy

Luna saw her therapist sitting at the bar at the restaurant where she works. The same night, Luna’s manager saw her therapist at the bar.

2 therapists walk into a bar…

The last two times I have seen a therapist I made them cry. This was in college when the student health plan covered the cost. I didn’t try a third therapist – mostly because it was to stressful to work into my schedule. I don’t understand how I made the first two cry, I just talked about death and dreams  – which is something I do all the time – as you know, dear reader.

The first time I went to therapy my parents had recently separated. Dad was sitting on the couch noodling on the guitar. He said: “Your mom and I are splitting up.” I sat quietly, feeling the heavy air. I went to my room and cried for a few minutes before dad drove me to the opening night of my play.

Sometime after that my parents asked me if I would like to go to therapy – seemed like fun. We paid $1 a week on the sliding scale.

My therapist was a great listener! She asked me what I would like to do and we ended up lighting a candle and then looking into each other’s eyes for the duration of most sessions. She mentioned that she saw colors around my body, I said the same. We sat and looked at the colors around each other’s bodies and into each other’s eyes over several months.

This was when I was 12 and when I was 19 I house sat for some entitled dogs on a mountain and worked on “The Moon is to Live On” with Meow Wolf. A woman who I knew somehow was also involved with the project. She seemed to know something about me and I wondered how I knew her. On the closing night of TMITLO I figured it out: Kelly was my therapist.

I recently learned that Kelly died.

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