REGRETS AND THEIR OLD FRIENDS

Therapist : Hello there

S.Conscious: Hello. (clears throat while looking around, takes a seat.)

regretsssss

(The room is dark, a single table, two chairs and a light bulb glowing dimly on top of the table, as expected. Therapist sits there, all high and mighty, red almost burgundy lipstick, white shirt not totally well pressed (but her aim is not in her dressing) and she’s wearing that face, you know that face. The one that says “I’m here to listen” but we all know she’s on top of a burning building singing some song with a catchy trap beat and dancing… is that dancing?)

Therapist : Excuse me (She snaps her fingers in front of S.Conscious’ face. Her nails are long, they look great) 

S.Conscious: Sorry, I was on top of the burning building… you know…

(She nods in understanding, the burning man song is familiar to both of them. She switches on the old tape recorder lying on the table. The sound of the wheels turning distracts them. S.Conscious bounces back first from the reverie and gives Therapist  the ‘heh’ face. Therapist straightens her shirt collars.)

Therapist: We’re here to discuss a very important ordeal. The tape recorder was just a break.

(She taps her nails on the metallic table)

Therapist: Water?

S.Conscious: Nah, I’m good.

(S.Conscious rub her thumbs together. Therapist takes the opening)

therapy

Therapist: Regrets huh?

S.Conscious: You have no freaking idea. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It was terrible. I freaking hate myself. I need Jesus in my life. I need to repent and seek another way of life, move out of the country, marry some black market dealing Jewish man that works as a car sales man during the day and a hit-man during the night. So that he can finally whack the source of my regrets.. you get it don’t you?

(Therapist nods)

S.Conscious: But then, I wouldn’t be a good christian if I sent my future husband on people whacking jobs to erase their memories, so that I could leave him and his weird ways of showing affection…

Therapist: (Makes a disgusted faced) Don’t even go there.

rma

S.Conscious: …because I ran due to my own shame and pre-defined form of embarrassment that I feel has shredded my ideals of perfection, because I believe I can achieve some lucid perfected version of myself. And these regrets have hindered that process. Do you know how regret comes in with so many other bridesmaids? Self-hate, fear and that other thing… Guilt! It’s like a really interesting but bad wedding, terrible food and limited tent space. I would like to sit under a tent too. Plus, the groom gives off the ‘mistake’ feeling. I can’t get married to that!

(S.Conscious hugs herself. She starts rocking back and forth on the chair.)

Therapist: Lose the crazy lady act, we all know you’re not getting married.

(S.Conscious sits up straight)

S.Conscious:  Sorry, but I thought you were my therapist?

Therapist: Me too. (Laughs)

think

S.Conscious: Can I have some water please?

(Therapist sighs and leaves the room. Five minutes pass, Therapist comes back with a glass of sparkling water)

S.Conscious: You know I don’t like sparkling water.

Therapist: Punishment.

(S.Conscious sips loudly)

Therapist: Really?

S.Conscious: Can’t I drink in peace too?

(They both roll their eyes) 

S.Conscious: As I was saying…The process, can no longer be completed. It’s over. My life as an outstandingly hypocritical member of society has come to an end. I cannot continue life like this.  I need to…

(Therapist stands up abruptly, she heads to the door and opens it. Another woman comes in. S.Conscious runs into a corner)

S.Conscious: (She hisses) Stay away from me demon!

Therapist: I’m surprised you can hiss after that dramatic tale of events.

(Therapist lets the woman take her seat)

fears

Woman: Hello.

S.Conscious: Go Away!

Woman: I can’t, Therapist paid me already. Plus, my friends are already outside waiting for me.

(S.Conscious screams and hits her head on the wall behind her multiple times)

Woman: (concerned) Should we give her a pillow?

Therapist: Let her get it all out, even if it’s blood.

S.Conscious: (crying) Why did you bring her here?

Therapist: You have to face her sometime.

S.Conscious: I can’t. She’s too pretty and too bright, and she smells sweet. Plus, she shaves… Do you know how aggravating that is?

Therapist: You don’t shave?

(Therapist and the Woman look at each other)

Therapist: (narrows her eyes) You shave?

Woman: (smiles) of course.

(turns to S.Conscious) Come have a seat. I promise, I won’t judge anything. Yes, yes, that’s how you do it. It feels warmer on the chair than the floor right? See? I don’t bite. Now… I know what happened, was terrible. And I know that you pretty much hate yourself to bits right now. But you can’t hate yourself forever. What we can do (Touches S.Conscious’ hand) is to face our terrible choices and mistakes, head on. Don’t berate yourself anymore. Now, you must stand (S.Conscious stands) inhale, (inhales) , exhales (exhales) , nod your head twice (nods twice), close your eyes (closes eyes too fast) and remember what you did (S.Conscious cringes) and then never forget what the hell you did (Therapist nods in agreement). Don’t forget to face your adversities the best way we know how to, by letting them wash off you like soap suds. Remember soap suds?Good girl. Now remember… face them and  know that I am your biggest cheerleader. No external parties can interrupt our space, our joy and most especially, our ability to walk over our regrets. Like pros. Now in one, two, three, I want you to open your eyes. Now, one, two, three.

(S.Conscious opens her eyes. She is alone. The room is empty. The glass of water is there. She sips. It’s still sparkling but she smiles.)

S.Conscious: Thank you, Honor.

(S.Conscious hears Ratchet outside the door and even she disappears.)

rice

Regards,

Wanna Be Sage. INSTA

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s