Small things make all of the difference in the world to a person's mental state. Take for example the sound of eight very precise pistons moving back and forth in their own respective cylinders. The output of that movement, funneled through a specially tuned exhaust system creates a mechanical symphony of sorts. That sound might be considered to be a loud and un-necessary noise, by a person who wants to relax and have quiet or simply isn't atuned to it. But it can also be viewed as being very musical and calming in nature by the person directing that sound and its volume by a slight twitch of their foot on their Mustang's accelerator pedal.
My Black 06 GT was propelling me rapidly down the road to a place that I neither wanted to visit, or saw the purpose of. I was headed for the office of Dr. H. M. Martin, a therapist who specialized in Family counseling and emotional disorders. I foolishly thought that my marriage was humming along like those eight synchronised pistons, but I was wrong.
My name is Scott Jennings, I'm 38 years old. I'm currently 5' 9" tall and a shade over 170lbs. I'm also currently in the process of divorcing my wife of the past 17 years. I cited irreconcilable differences because we live in a no-fault divorce state, so the reason doesn't matter. I figured that irreconcilable differences was vague enough that she'd let it go through, since it wouldn't disclose the true reason and embarrass her.
Actually, Becky cheated on me, and I was willing to do anything on God's green earth to get away from the bitch. She on the other hand was singing a verse of the, "Oh Scotty I love you. I made a mistake. I don't want a divorce blues." Unfortunately that wasn't the kind of music I enjoyed, so I wasn't buying it.
She'd hired a lawyer and a pretty good one. They were doing everything they could to delay the process, but I knew that all I had to do was fight my way through it and I'd be free.
I pulled into the parking lot in front of a nice looking building. The Mustang's low growl attracted a lot of attention. I got out, locked the car and headed for the building's lobby. Just as I got to the doorway, I saw Becky's Dad pull into the lot in his Buick. I waved at him, and dropped my hand, as Becky waved at me too.
I was in the elevator, when I heard her yell for me to hold the door. I snickered and pushed the button to close it. There was just no way I wanted to be trapped in an elevator with her. When I got to the fifth floor I looked around and found the office. I went in and smiled at the receptionist. She gave me a form to fill out. She looked at my form when I returned it to her, and laughed out loud.
My answer to one of the questions had made her laugh. I was sure that I knew which one. The form had asked about the reason for this visit and I'd written, "Obtaining freedom from a cheating Bitch."
We were still smiling and laughing when Becky walked into the office. "We were just talking about you," I said, sitting down in an isolated chair in the waiting room. The receptionist started giggling again, as she handed Becky the same form I'd just filled out.
After a few minutes the receptionist told us we could go in and see Dr. Martin. I walked into the room and looked around. I'd never been in a therapist's office before and was underwhelmed. Besides the famous couch that I'd expected, there were a couple of chairs facing each other and another chair behind a desk for the doctor.
"Sit wherever you'd like," said Dr. Martin.
Becky looked around and sat on the couch. So I took one of the chairs. She immediately got up and sat in the other chair. I moved to the couch. Becky followed me and by that time Dr. Martin told us to just please find a seat and stay in it. I sat in the chair behind the desk.
I think that surprised both Becky and Dr. Martin. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in one of those chairs or the sofa?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine here," I said.
"Some of the exercises we'll be doing require you to speak directly to your partner," said Dr. Martin. "In order for us to reach the desired results, participation is a must."
"First off," I said. "We need to be very clear about the desired results. We are not all working for the same things here. For me, being as honest as possible. I don't want to have anything further to do with Rebecca. I'm here only because the court ordered it. Perhaps in some ways I'd like to know why she did what she did. But that is of course secondary to my goal of freedom. The reality of it all is that she lied to me and cheated on me, probably for years, so I'm not locked in on needing a straight answer from her, but if one is forthcoming I'll take it." I looked him straight in the eye so he could see that I was being as honest as I could.
"The judge gave us counseling, twice a week for a month to see if our differences could be settled, and believe me they can't. I'm only here so the court looks favorably on me and gives me a better settlement. I've been nice so far. But that won't last for long. So I'll sit here if you don't mind because I won't be staring into her eyes and holding hands with her under any circumstances."
"Are you afraid of your wife?" he asked.
"Not unless, you consider being hesitant to pick up a stray venereal disease as fear," I said. "I just consider it prudent."
The hairs on my back stood up as I noticed how Dr. Martin paled when I mentioned picking up a disease from Becky.
"Then what do you have to lose?" he asked after regaining his equilibrium.
"What do I stand to gain?" I asked back.
"Well you could possibly get your marriage back on track, and get your wife back," he said firmly.
"I don't want either of those things," I said.
"Why not?" he asked. "Most of us long for companionship, intimacy, and love. It's a part of the human condition. What makes you different?"
"I'm not," I said. "I want those things very badly. I just need to get rid of Becky's cheating ass so I can go find them."
I heard Becky sigh when I said that, and realized that I had struck a nerve. She still wanted us back together badly. I couldn't figure out why though. Were suckers that hard to find?
"Okay, we're not making any progress with this line of discussion, so why don't we just concede the seating arrangements, and talk," he said. "Mrs. Jennings why don't we start with you. What do you hope to accomplish during our course of treatment?"
Becky stood up like a schoolgirl reciting her lines in the school play. "I want to try and open the lines of communication between my husband and I, and repair the damage done to our marriage. I want us to work past this, and live out our lives together. I want us to grow old together and have kids together. Scotty is hurt but he knows that I love him more than anyone or anything. I hate to have gone to this extreme, but he has refused to speak to me except through our attorneys. I wasn't even allowed to apologize for my actions, or ask his forgiveness," she tried to look at me as she said this but I refused to even make eye contact with her.
"The thing that bothers me the most, and that I also hope to work through, is my husband's reaction to what went on. I mean I know that I made a mistake. I also know it was a big one, but I can't give up on us because he's all I want. I know that my actions made me look like a slut. But Scotty just threw me away like I was garbage. One mistake after 17 years together, and there was simply no communication. We didn't talk about it, just game over, get the fuck out of my house and never come back. It hurt me very badly."
Becky's eyes started to tear up. And I couldn't help it, I laughed. I started clapping my hands and applauding.
Dr. Martin offered Becky a tissue, and looked at me. "Mr. Jennings please try to refrain from negative impulses. You both need to view this area as a safe zone, where we can all be completely honest about our feelings and our thoughts. You probably wouldn't like it very much if your wife derided every comment you make, so please don't to that to her." He looked at Becky again to see if she was still upset.
"Okay, Mr. Jennings, why don't you tell us what you'd like to see come out of this therapy."
I looked down at the floor, as if in deep thought. I cradled my chin in my hand, like the great thinkers do, then I looked up and smiling asked a question. "I'm supposed to be perfectly honest, right?" They both nodded their heads. "No one will think less of me or judge me right?" They nodded again.
"Well, okay," I said really quietly as if I was ashamed to say it. "Despite what I said earlier, deep down inside of me, what I really want is..." And I hesitated here.
"You can tell us," said Dr. Martin.
"Yes, honey, get it out," echoed Becky. They were both leaning forwards in their seats.
"That cum sucking whore, the fuck out of my life, with a quickness," I smiled.
Becky's face fell and she started crying out loud.
"Whew, you're right Doc. It feels really good to get my feelings out there," I said smiling and fanning my face with my hands. "What a relief."
"Let's try something different," said Dr. Martin. "Mrs. Jennings, a question. How did you feel about your husband the day you married him?"
Becky tried looking at me again as she spoke. "I loved him, very much," she said.
"And how do you feel about him now?" asked Dr. Martin.
"I love him so much more now," said Becky tearing up. "I wish he didn't work so much. He doesn't seem to be able to separate his life from his job. Sometimes I think he's married to his job and I'm just an appliance that he uses when he gets home."
.... There is more of this story ...