I’m anxious to see S tomorrow. I mean, later this morning.
I’m anxious to see him because it felt like I haven’t seen him in weeks when in actuality, it’s really only been 5 days since I had briefly seen him on Friday. I am anxious for our session as well because I have lots to tell him. I feel like a child who has plenty to tell their parent and can’t wait to do so.
I think my loneliness and sadness have made me wish that S and I could talk more. It’s made me go back to the person I was before – the one who gets stalker-like, who thinks about S incessantly, the one who wishes that he was my friend, the one who wants to break boundaries…
Every time I bring this topic up, S’ answer is consistent, “Well, think about how we wouldn’t be able to continue this work if we had known each other personally as well… You’d constantly be wondering who else I’ve told about you. There’d be doubts. And we don’t want that, right?”
He’s right. But the whole blank-canvas, I don’t give you advice or my opinion thing that therapists do annoy me sometimes. I want to see them as human beings who struggle, just like I do. I think doing so will help me to stop idolizing S and would stop me from putting him on the pedestal so frequently.
But of course, he’s right. It would get messy and if we cross our boundaries, we’re going to kill the rapport and the hard work that we’ve spent a year and a half investing in would crumble.
I can certainly wish though, right?