The Third Child - Session 3

(Beep. Music fades in)

I see your concern, and I appreciate it. Truly. But I don’t think it matters whether or not I’m fine. This was never about me. Or, okay… I know how that sounds and what I would be walking into if I didn’t backpedal a bit. This wasn’t about me in a direct sense. I was getting something out of it, though. I needed to do this, not just for the sake of my clients, as I think of them, but for my sake as well. Do you have any idea what I go through? Watching what can amount to car crashes from my window every single day? And here’s the thing, it’s not just the crash. It’s–It’s the larger picture because I have a voice, so in theory I could yell to try to stop what might happen, but I don’t know what that’s going to do. I don’t know if I can stop what is going to happen. I don’t know if I’ll be heard or if the people outside my window will even try to listen. They can’t see what I see, after all. And they don’t know what I’m trying to prevent. Heck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to prevent, though. I don’t know for sure if it will be a disaster. I can’t know that. I don’t see the future, and I think it’s because the future isn’t set, not as far as I’m concerned.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

Or I have reason to think that way. I don’t think the future is set because over the years, I’ve seen things unfold. I’ve seen the choices people make in real time, choices that I don’t think they were inclined to make or would have made had I not said something. Which isn’t every time, honestly. Sometimes I only speak because I want to be sure the cards fall a certain way. Then there’s the third category of times when I think I’m just saying something to hear the sound of my own voice. Because what is the alternative? Cry? It’s probably cry.

But I have done a lot of crying. I won’t pretend otherwise. I won’t lie. It seems like poor form to bring any sort of dishonesty into this. And I know I towed the line quite prolifically already when I told your older brother that he wouldn’t be able to recognize my voice. Because now you might think that’s impossible, but he and I never spoke directly. So no, he wouldn’t be able to recognize my voice. I’m not gambling over his memory. I never spoke to him directly. 

(Music fades out. New music starts)

But no, I won’t deny who I am or that you know who I am more specifically. But I don’t think it all needs to be said. I don’t think it matters in the way that you think it does. I don’t think you can do what you want to do for me. I appreciate your concern, but there are limitations to each of us. The fact that we both have limitations is something we have in common. We cannot do what we want to do, we cannot orchestrate the outcome we want to see come to pass.

But sure, we can try. We don’t know if it will work, but we can try. 

And I think about that a lot. Especially now. It’s not just trying something with the dreams. It’s trying to fix things with her, trying to fix things with the woman I love who… Well, who wondered how the heck we could love each other. Or if we do, still. It was a whole conversation. I think the word codependent came up in conversation. And you of all people have to know how that stings. I don’t think that term applies to either of our relations, but it’s not about the merits of the accusation but the fact that it got said. Because it was meant as a reason to walk to the door. Maybe not out of it, but you know that’s the next step. So you’re trying to stop things or backtrack or pull them back, which isn’t easy. Because you know that even if the specifics of the word don’t quite fit, the fact you were willing to utter it says a lot. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

The fact that you and the woman I love so ardently apparently have such a similar self-destruction sequence brings some comfort, oddly enough. Because it means it wasn’t just something I did that caused it to happen. It was, in some way, a land mine written into your shared genetic code. Sure, I didn’t need to step on it, but in some sense, it shouldn't have been there in the first place. And I won’t say I was set up to fail. That would be dishonest but I think I should have had more leeway before hitting my own destruction.

Having been the one on the receiving end of that phrase, I can tell you your partner knows you didn’t fully mean it. I mean, I know that my girlfriend didn’t fully mean it when she said it to me. But just as you experienced when he turned that card around, when he played that big old reverse card, it isn’t the sort of thing that can be easily undone. There is doubt that lingers, even after the apologies. The stakes just feel so high. What if you did mean it? What if you are miserable but it’s been so long that you no longer know what that word means or can tell it apart from whatever the default emotional state is? What if I’ll be miserable in no short order? What if we aren’t meant to be together in the future? Or what if we aren’t meant to be each other’s right now or right… ever. Which isn’t even a phrase.

There’s something disconcerting about the mere idea of having lived a lie, regardless of the circumstances,but especially if you weren’t let in on the fact that it was all a lie. I mean, there’s something disconcerting about the mere idea that the universe or whatever forces are at play have constructed an artificial life for us: a delicate tower of mismatched pieces incompatible with each other perhaps but certainly with ourselves. To live that way means you have nothing. Nothing of yours, nothing authentic, nothing to rely on.

I won’t pretend I should have ever relied on my girlfriend like I did. I won’t pretend that there weren’t balls I dropped. I won’t pretend things were perfect. But they were there. We were together. And that life felt real. Things felt real. 

Or maybe I just wanted it to be.

(Music fades out)

You have to prove things are real.

(New music starts)

For yourself and for him. And look, that might mean you go your separate ways. People grow into different versions of themselves, and there’s a fair chance that you will grow apart. It sucks. And at least you’ll know that you had love. That you have love. 

I don’t believe we ever lose love. When it’s the real thing, I’ll add. Granted that there are plenty of imitations out there. But when you have known the real thing, it sticks with you. That’s why this matters. It’s not just about proving what was but what is there. That you two exchanged and kept something of value. 

It isn’t unlike your father’s love, is it? That is still there with you. It’s still present with you. You can feel it now, bringing you comfort when he can’t. You lost him but not that. 

Do you understand now?

(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?