I sat across from the therapist after I finished telling him everything that had happened, with my head hanging, my fingers knotted together and tears brimming, not yet spilled. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Stop it. For God’s sake, Shannon. Knock it off. I lifted my head, raised my eyebrows, cleared my throat and smiled a tight-lipped smile. Brave Shannon. He sat there with his legs crossed, head tilted down, looking at me from over the top of his glasses. They were expensive glasses. Gucci. Very nice. Who cares. Pay attention, Shannon. Listen to him.

“Shannon, you know,” and he sighed deeply, shaking his head and removing his glasses. “I, uh … you are the woman that comes in here and makes me hurt. I am not supposed to hurt for a patient, it’s … distracting. But, alas, I am human, and I feel very sorry for you.” Ouch, Doc. He gently placed his yellow paper tablet on the coffee table between us and laid his pen down next to it. His chocolate brown corduroy trousers were a little too short and I saw his matching socks and his burgundy leather shoes with the thin laces. He uncrossed his legs and leaned over, placing both elbows on his knees. He laced his fingers together. He exhaled and nodded his head. “Are you willing to listen to what I have to say? Can you allow yourself to at least let it in? Because I know that you will not accept it, because you are not ready. But I want you to at least hear it.” “Wow. How long do I have?” I joked. “And will I ever play the violin again?” He didn’t smile or acknowledge my move to dodge this squarely aimed bullet. And I felt that. Uh oh.

He was very serious. “Shannon, please listen to me and my many years of experience with human behavior. Will you allow me to tell you what I think … what I am certain of?” I blinked a few times, feeling my heart grow heavier and heavier. “Yes,” I whispered. “Shannon, behavior like you described … this ‘cheating’, as you put it, several different women, yeah, ‘no big deal, they mean nothing, it’s a guy thing’ … until this last one pulled him away from you, uh … is not a ‘sometimes’ event. He wasn’t going through something, he wasn’t ‘trying to find himself’ as you think; this was not not a hiccup in an ordinarily faithful man. This is his lifestyle. This is who he is. This is how he is wired. He lies to you with the greatest of ease, because it is what he is used to doing, and he is used to it working,” and the doctor tilted his head down to catch my full eye contact. ” … because it does. Lying to you is easy for him … natural, even … because he knows you believe him. And, he is always prepared to offer you another lie when you are about to catch him.” I was frozen. “You see … he isn’t a bad guy. He isn’t. He sounds like a very warm and kind person with a deep capacity to love. And I think he cares very, very deeply for you. Oddly, he was lying to preserve you the hurt of the truth. See, he wants you in his life, so he lied to keep you there, so you would stay. You know, a ‘what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her’ sort of thing. See? But he also wanted her, too. Very much. Enough to also lie to her. Enough to keep both of you in the dark, with him at the wheel. What a quandary. What a terrible spot, for all involved. And ultimately, she fed his ego in a way you do not, so he chose her, and he’s gone.”

My tears streaked down my face, but I refused to cry. I didn’t make one expression, one move. Handing me a tissue, he continued. “He’ll be back, though. And when he returns, he will feel like he wants to make a go with you, but you will never be the only woman in his life. It is not what he wants. Thus, you will never hear the whole truth from him.” I dipped my face down to blot my eyes with the wadded up tissue and shook my head, sniffing. “Let me say that again: You will never hear the whole truth from him. And, now that you know what’s been happening, he will very simply re-route himself so you cannot find out. He’ll get a secret phone, new email, wear different shoes to change his print. You will not find out the next time. The next time. And the next and the next. This is his lifestyle. Do you understand?” The doctor raised his eyebrows and nodded his head at me. Barely in an audible voice, I said, ” … so…” “So,” he finished, “You are wasting your time and your life if you think he will be different for you. He clearly wants you, but he doesn’t want ONLY you. Shannon, hear me again: this wasn’t an anomaly, this is his lifestyle, and you found out.” I said, “I love him,” and he replied, “He doesn’t want your love. He wants to play. He is not a bad man, but he is not the man for you. Shannon,” his voice got very soft. “You are wasting your time.” I sighed, feeling very small, very ashamed, very embarrassed. “But you know that, don’t you?” he finished. I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Shannon,” he said, “If I may … he is not the last man you are ever going to love. And he is not like every man. Not all men cheat. Not all men lie. Not all men have multiple partners. Out there, right now, is a man who is waiting to find you … a woman who will love him and do all the special things that you so naturally do. And he won’t cheat on you. But listen to me, this is so very important,” and he shook his head as he spoke, with such feeling, folding his hands together. “You have got to shake this experience out of your head and understand that you cannot take this poison … and that’s what it is … into your next relationship. Because if you do, if you assume the next one will cheat because this one did, that will destroy any foundation that could be setting up a healthy relationship. And then the next and the next and the next. And you’ll fall out of every relationship you enter into, because you are afraid this will happen again, when, it might never happen to you again for the rest of your life. Flush him out of your life, Shannon. He will never change … But he has changed you.” The doctor leaned forward and took his glasses off, tossing them on his pad. ” … He has changed you. Do you understand?” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Nobody changes me. Nobody has that kind of control.” “Ok,” he responded. “Well, why did he get away with so much deceit, right under your nose, for so long? Because you had no reason to doubt him. The male figures in your life never let you down, so why would he? He took advantage of that, Shannon, like candy from a baby. He knew you would never assume he would lie to you, or be willing to hurt you like he did. And every time he took any of them to bed behind your back, he was willing to hurt you.” “So how does that change me??” I asked.  The doctor put his glasses back on and leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers beneath his chin. “The next man you meet … how are you going to feel when he breaks a date because something comes up? Be honest here … what will you think?” I exhaled. “I will think he’s screwing someone else.” The doctor nodded his head and sharply clapped his hands once. “Changed. You are different coming out of this relationship than you were going in.”

Ice water, splash, right in my face.

He looked at his clock and nodded at me. “Ok?” He said. “Ok.” I whispered. I rose to my feet and extended my hand. He stood up, warmly took my one hand in both of his and gently patted, giving me a soft, sad smile. He knew. I thanked him for his time and left.

Driving away from his office, I deeply reflected on what he had said, and I realized he was right.  I had changed.  Where I never doubted, I now fear.  Where I never second guessed, I now assume.  I hated the new me.  I say that without any exaggeration. I hated the new me, and I was ashamed.  I pulled into my driveway and shut off my engine, leaning against my seat, so exhausted, so spent. As I reached for my coat, I heard the bright strum of the harp.  He was texting me.  The pull was absolutely magnetic, and I knew I would never be able to not dissolve when he came around. Was it because he rejected me? Was that why?  I reached over and took my phone, swiping it open. “Hi,” he texted. “Let’s try this again. No bullshit, no distractions. Fresh start. Ok?”  My heart fluttered in my chest because he wanted me this time. I shook my head and exhaled as I typed with shaking hands. GOD I hate the physical reaction I get from him!!   “Fresh Start? Just us?” I said. “Fresh start. Just us.” he replied.  I squeezed my eyes shut and tapped my phone against my forehead. That doctor just told me he would never change. With a gust of bravery, I texted back, “No, I don’t think so. I can’t go through it again.”  I sat in my front seat, watching the curser blink at the end of the sentence. Oh God, but I love him so much.  I truly do. Choking up, feeling my chest flood with panic, I tapped the back button, erasing that sentence and typed, “Ok. Let’s try again.”

Send.

To be continued …