Page 93 of My Cosplay Escape
Now it is my turn to shrug.
The therapist takes out his pen and makes some more notes. “So you showed up and said, ‘Surprise. It was me in the mask’?”
“I didn’t get that far,” I mutter. “He told me he was meeting someone important and wanted me to leave.”
“Did you?”
“He was meeting me. You get that, right? He was meeting me? I was the someone he wanted to meet.”
“But you didn’t tell him the truth.”
“I tried. The fact is… he didn’t want me. People see what they want to see. If he had wanted me to be me, he would have connected the dots.”
“Maybe. Maybe he was feeling too scared or too vulnerable to process all the information. After all, you were inhabiting two very different parts of his life.”
I check the time on the clock behind me. “So are you going to tell me why I’m so messed up? Are you going to tell me that no grown woman would ever parade around in a catsuit?”
“No. Were you hoping I would?”
“I’m crazy. Adam said as much.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah, scribble that in your notes. He said I was crazy. He said to leave him alone. And he’s right. Only crazy people sit on couches like these.”
“The really crazy ones don’t sit. They lie down.”
Funny. My therapist is funny. Fantastic.
“Listen, Sarah,” Brad says. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re creative. How do you handle the trauma and grief of losing not only your first child but your marriage? You started distance running. Not drinking, not abusing food or other substances. You enjoy running?”
“I love it.”
“You found something constructive, and yeah, maybe you need to think about ways of scaling back—eight miles sounds excessive. You found a similar outlet that let you explore your sexuality. You dress up and help people escape on Saturday nights. You get to play a role and be confident. What is wrong with that?”
“The deception. The shame,” I stammer.
“Ah. Those. Why do you need to hide your second job?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“If you were dressing up as a fairy princess, would it be equally embarrassing? What if you were acting in a play? What if you were going to Comic-Con again?” Brad tucks his pen into his shirt pocket. “You want to know what I think?”
“It’s why I’m here.”
“I think you should tell someone what you’ve been up to. In fact, I’m going to give you a homework assignment. Pick one person you trust and tell them all about it. See what happens. When you’re ready, come tell me about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Creative. My running and my cosplaying are proof that I am creative. I’m a badass, working her way through a lot of Shirley Temples in creative and constructive ways.
That’s what I tell myself when I ask Stacey if we can talk after my shift at the gym Friday night.
She’s kind enough to agree to meet me in front of Superhero Escapes. The thought of bumping into Adam inside is more than I can handle right now. I want to get there. I’m going to get there. I just need to take care of a few things to prove to myself that I can.
I walk the couple of blocks down to the escape room, and I am shocked to see the people lined up to get in. My cosplay shifts have always been busy, but I didn’t realize that there was this much demand.
The door opens and out steps Stacey in her cosplay. Cheers erupt from the people in the queue. Stacey registers none of it. “I got to make this fast. We have back-to-back bachelorette parties arriving in five. What’s up, Sabine?”
