Client [Undecided] - Session 4

(Beep.)

You noticed my pattern.

(Music fades in)

You saw it from the first set of sessions. And while it’s changed a bit, you are right. It’s still there. It used to be that the start and ending of each set of sessions would match from client to client. But that’s changed a bit, hasn’t it? You weren’t the first to listen to all the sessions, but you are the first to notice the consistency, the choice I made You trusted it was a choice, one that was made with care and reason. And you would be right about that. Or half right, I should say. 

It wasn’t a choice to do but a choice to embrace what was there. These problems haven’t been unique, have they? Truth be told, problems seldom are when you get down to it, when you strip away the details as I do. When the names fall away. When the places fall away. Once the themes alone remain. At that point, you can see that you all walk similar paths. It’s much like the path I walk as well. It’s a need to find and use one’s voice. It’s the need to understand the role of language in our lives, the role of the words we carry both in our nature and in our mouths. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

But as choices are made the details slowly become relevant again. You are all walking similar paths but at different paces and with different destinations in mind. Those steps, that drifting, slowly, to wherever you are meant to be, change the nature of each conversation bit by bit. Gradually but completely. 

In some ways, the changes I’ve made for you have been the most obvious. Or I felt them the most strongly. Partially because they resonate with me. They strike at cords deep within me. So it’s a more visceral reaction on my part. And so right now, I won’t mention being alone. I know not to. We don’t need to talk about that. And it cuts too deep for both of us. We can’t think about that. For our own sakes.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

But we need to think about moving past it, right? We need to think about getting you past this point, past those nights where you wake up expecting another presence lurking about. When you expect another presence in your home with you. Not the dog, though the dog did help. You’re expecting a person. And you do think you know which person. You think you feel the connection. A sort of buzz in the air. You know why some people think of it as a spark or electricity of some kind. The metaphor makes sense now. 

For a while, you stood in awe of the feeling and thought that it was enough. But now it’s not. Now, you find yourself yearning for more, craving for more, even. You want that which lies at the end of a road you swore to never walk. You want love. You want her. You want her love.

And yet that’s simplifying things, you want to argue. It’s not that you want that love. It’s that you want to at least try. You want to show yourself that it’s possible to try, to put yourself out there, to not wait but to venture forth. Proof of concept is the phrase, I believe. Are those the words you were looking for? You think so. But it doesn’t end there. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

There’s something you want to ask me. I know. I hear the beginning of the question as it too buzzes on your lips. You find it hard to let it go. After all, it’s missing pieces, right? There are things you don’t know how to say. There are things you are scared to say. The whole question might fit in that latter category, if you were to be honest with me. You’re worried it sounds…. You aren’t even sure how to explain what it is you’re worried about. 

But it does feel like something you should already know, you want to say. It’s knowledge that you think you should have. It’s so basic, you want to say. Everyone can talk. Everyone can speak. Most of the people around you can do it with ease. But for you, it’s hard if not impossible. 

I always seem to know what to say, you point out. How do I do that? How do I speak so bluntly and honestly?

I know you want to ask that question. I understand why. I don’t judge you for it. but at the same time, I’m still somewhat shocked by the question. Because it feels like I am just as ill equipped to answer it as you are. It feels like I don’t know anything. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. But it goes back to the point that I understand you. I understand your struggles. I understand how hard some seemingly basic tasks can be. I understand how hard it can be to speak. To declare a truth so intimate as love can feel impossible but looks so simple. 

I did it once. But I don’t remember how. 

And truth be told, maybe there was nothing to remember. Maybe the hard part with declaring the truth is simply resolving yourself to do so, deciding that this is going to be how you proceed and how you handle things. Maybe it’s just the commitment, not just to the action but to the consequences as well. Maybe it’s just the decision that existing in a limbo is well and truly unsustainable. Maybe it’s a phase of the journey that just requires you to walk. Walk and you’ll get there. Nothing less but nothing more. I can’t say. 

But really, what can the truth hurt? When it sits within you, it does hurt. It’s clearly barbed. You feel it. It stings. You worry it is drawing too much blood and may kill you. But there’s really only one solution to that, isn’t there? There’s only one thing to try.

(Music fades out. Beep.)

The Oracle of Dusk is a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. It was written, edited, produced, and performed by MJ Bailey. And if you like the show, tell friends about it or the quasi-friends that are still on your social media feeds because social norms evolved before words did, am I right?