TheRapist

I miss TheRapist... What was his name... Robert? Richard? I should really find out - he meant so much to me. Although in the end, I have to admit, I was actively making him fall in love with me - totally inappropriate. Did he finally break up with me because he did or because I really was OK? Evidence points to the former - as I am clearly not OK. Stable, maybe.
Well, this picture is for him. I always wore glasses to our sessions because I gave him everything - pure, undiluted, true. The glasses afforded me with a little privacy - if only so that he didn't see my eyes welling up. And I did love him, the way you love a construct, for his intelligence and strength. He stood in the firestorm of my raw emotion. He was the perfect therapist.

Here is an old post about TheRapist:
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Current mood: amused
Sacrifice
So, therapist says many things to me, poses questions, mostly listens. This week he listened to one of my stories and asked about the nature of sacrifice.
What does it mean? Taking on another's pain or discomfort preferable before they feel it. What is it worth? I have a high thresh-hold for pain and discomfort. I can usually exchange my heartache for three or four others. How much is too much? I have rarely reached a limit. Why do you do it? The pain of sacrifice is delicious - especially if nobody knows. But it hurts you - how do you move away from this behavior? Can you? Let me put it to you this way... At any given moment, I could die - fine, I've made my peace with that. Joy - actual joy, joy for and from the present - doesn't exist for me. But I sacrifice the peace of death and live in constant pain so that, one day, my lover will find me and he will know happiness. So, no, I could move away from this behavior, but then I would die.
Poor therapist. He had nothing to say. For a long time.