Page 134 of Perfect
“No.” Dr. Mills clears her throat and waits, but I don’t say anything.
“It may be uncomfortable to talk about, but ideally we’ll want you to have a much better understanding of these impulses before getting into anything romantic, especially with Alex.”
“I saidno,” I snap.
“I'd like you to spend some time thinking aboutwhyyou don't want to talk about this." I glare at her but say nothing, and the silence between us becomes uncomfortable. "You also told me that you’re questioning your grasp on reality because you and Alex viewed your relationship so differently. What does that mean, exactly?” It was such a mistake to speak to her about any of this. I should have just tried to figure this out on my own.
“We weren’t on the same page, and now nothing seems real,” I say, doing my best to sound nonchalant. “That’s all.” I don’t even need to watch her to know she’s blinking and pursing her lips.
“I need to be honest, I don’t think that’s all. I feel like you’re leaving alotout.”
She hasnoidea.
“No, that’s pretty much it.” She makes a small noise of assent.
“Ideally, one misunderstanding shouldn’t be enough to destabilize your grip on reality. I know you may not want to hear this, but the medication you refuse to take might have helped you from getting to this point. I think you should speak to a psychiatrist.”
“No.”
“I think you might benefit from the medication.”
“I thinkyoumight benefit from fuckingdropping it,” I snap. I push my hands back through my hair and exhale hard, glancing at her. “Sorry,” I force out, “I’m having a bad day.” Every day has been a bad day lately.
Dr. Mills looks genuinely concerned. “Thank you for apologizing, Theodore. I’d like to see you more often for the timebeing, if that’s alright. I think you need more support, because it seems that you’re in a fragile state of mind right now.” I laugh bitterly.
“No fucking shit.”
***
Therapy becomes twice weekly, and there’s fucking homework.
Reading the books Dr. Mills assigns is hard. I can understand what the books are saying, but even the things that seem to apply to me don’t feel real to me. I have to start trying to untangle what is and isn’t real, and I can’t talk to anyone about it.
I’m supposed to talk to Dr. Mills about it, but keeping my lies straight with her becomes harder. I start letting things slip by accident, and while I’m not stupid enough to admit to anything outright, I’m positive that she’s beginning to suspect what’s actually been going on between Alex and me.
I have to keep a journal, which I hate, and I use it to second-guess everything I think is real. I spend days going back through my entire relationship with Alex, trying to see it from her point of view, listing out what might have been happening from her perspective.
I getverydrunk and freak the fuck out when I think about the first time we had sex.
I’m constantly being faced with the realization that there’s no way Alex will ever speak to me again.
She shouldn’t, honestly.
I put almost all of the polaroids of us away in the attic because it’s fucking torture to see Alex look happy with me when I know she was miserable. She’s either not that shitty of a liar, or I was so desperate to buy into her lies that I ignored them, but I don’t know which it is. I keep one polaroid in my office, one ofus in front of the tree, because I can tell for certain that Alex was happy.
I see Alex once in person downtown. She’s at a wine bar with Bailey, and as they chat and laugh, Alex looks happier and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. Her smile is so wide and honest, and my heart breaks to see it. I leave the area immediately, even though she doesn’t notice me, and I go to the soggy, freezing beach and sit out on the dunes and cry.
I’ve been crying so much lately. I didn’t cry for almost ten years, and now it’s happening constantly. This must be how Alex feels, and it’s fuckingawful. I know I’m part of the reason she cries so much, and I know she’d be better off without me.
Everyone else always has been.
I decide then and there that I’m going to kill myself after I kill Danny.
I don’t want to live without Alex, and she doesn’t want me. I’ll wait until she tells me as much, but at this point, it’s a foregone conclusion. I leave the beach, going home to make a list of things I need to do before I kill myself.
I need to get a will drawn up and leave Alex everything, but I need to make sure Catherine doesn’t talk to her about it. I need to figure out what to do with my shares in the business, whether I can transfer them to Alex or if I should just sell them.
I need to get the trusts for Melissa’s kids taken care of in advance, find a fiduciary and make some things explicitly fucking clear about safeguarding the money from Melissa.
