I walked in tonight and you were asleep with “In Treatment” on the television in the background. I watched for a moment as Jake and Amy ate away at each other…he tried to figure out how much they were paying per minute and she figured it out far more quickly than he had and responded, “Four dollars per minute, Einstein.” I winced. I could feel her bite, her intentional hurt – even though it’s just a tv show.
I went in the bathroom to wash my face and I replayed our session in my head. “Shocker,” I had said. Shocker. I don’t remember why I said it. I can’t, for the life of me recall what you said that prompted me to reply that way. But I do remember that I said it to hurt you. I admitted that in the room and I remember it now. I thought about it for a moment before it came out. It was calculated. I wanted you to feel as hurt as I felt from you. It was very intentional. Right? Hell no. Did it feel good? For a moment, yes. I’m fucked up for that – fine. But at least I’m honest.
The scenario you presented this morning infuriated me. If there were a stronger word than infuriated, I would use it. I felt hot from the tips of my toes. I felt like smoke could come out of my ears. Cliched…but true. I felt like my head was going to pop off. Once you started, I couldn’t possibly hear how you felt, what you were experiencing, what you wanted. Because the simple act of presenting the situation showed me how completely out of touch you are with what I feel, what I want, what I need. You simply disregard me in these moments and that no longer leaves me feeling badly. It leaves me feeling MAD.
So perhaps I am no better than the character that left me wincing on television. I set out to hurt with a single word and I did so brilliantly. I remember your reaction of anger and hurt. But I can not, for the life of me, recall what I was responding to. That wasn’t the point though. The point was to hurt and I did. I did it with a single word. I managed what took you 20 minutes in a single word, Einstein.
I looked in the mirror tonight, as I washed the day off of my face. And I thought about us. We are a good match – you and I. A passionate, strong, intense, and smart – ever so smart – match. Except when we don’t match. When we don’t match we inflict pain on each other simply to remove some of the pain we are feeling ourselves. And no one ends up winning. We simply end up with more battle wounds.
Shocker.
