Client [Undecided] - Session 5
(Beep.)
No, this wasn’t the plan.
(Music fades in)
It wasn’t. Okay. I didn’t want you to fail or get your heartbroken or anything like that. This wasn’t…. This…
(Sigh) It’s hard to believe me right now. I get it. I see your pain and embarrassment. I see all the many ways you are upset. I validate it. I get it. 100%. This is not how you wanted things to go, but this is what you expected. You expected the rejection. And in some ways, preemptively rejecting yourself was better than this. It was a secret before. It was something you could hide, shamefully or not.
And that secret would have been some sort of companion. It was not the ideal companion. It would not give you much in the way of comfort, but it would fill that space. It would be something you could put up with until someone else came along. And you were okay with that. The idea of a true love out there who would not be revealed until the right moment was thrilling. It was something to look forward to. The present might have been uncomfortable, but you could look past the present if there was any glimmer of light or hope in the distance.
And before I got involved there was. There was plenty of that. I didn’t diminish that, but I distracted you. I caused you to turn away.
I’ll admit I envied that about you, your ability to see that light, that hope. That optimism was never the sort of thing I could have. It was never mine to claim.
(Music fades out and new music fades in)
I can’t know the future, but I do suspect that you might have been okay without my intervention. In fact, in hindsight, maybe you have been better off. But an oracle doesn’t deal in hindsight. And this one does not even deal with the future, only the present and all the nuance therein.
I know it seems like I was setting you up to fail just to get back at my ex. But it wasn’t like that, okay? It wasn’t like that. Genuinely and truly. I was doing the best I could do for you and her both. When I told you to reach out to her, when I guided you in that direction, I should say, when I tried to nudge you towards the declaration that went poorly, it was because I earnestly believed that was the right thing to do.
I believed I was helping. I believed you two would be good for each other. Both of you would be better off for it. I believed in the possibility. You are in all of these things. So, it should follow or I think it’s fair to say that in all of this, I believed in you.
But yes, I knew it was her. I could see it in my vision, glimpses of a face I could never forget, that I would never want to forget. Her beauty is distinct in the unmatched sort of way. There is no one like her. She is my ex now, and I can’t believe I’m saying that. It feels so wrong to say. It feels almost impossible to say.
But I told you I understood, didn’t I? You struggled to believe me, but I proved myself. I understood you. I understood you in a way that I had no right to. I understand anyone that could fall in love with her and how agonizing that is. I can understand that burning. I knew it once. I still know it.
(Music fades out and new music fades in)
It doesn’t matter if I’m over her or not. I made my choices. I can see the picture, the lines that divide the various pieces of what shouldn’t have been a puzzle but is. And my piece does not belong in her puzzle. Not anymore anyway. It overstayed its welcome, I suspect, and it got in the way of everything else as all the other pieces came together. I helped her get to that stage in her life, but then I realized I didn’t fit. She has ambitions. She’s trying to become a tenured professor, and I’m content being a glorified receptionist. She wants a child, and I can hardly take care of myself. She’s put together, and I am shattered, broken to the point that part of me was reduced to a dust that blew away in the wind. There was no gluing me back together. But goodness knows she tried. She tried harder than she had any business trying.
And for that and so many other reasons, she deserves to be happy. You deserve to be happy. And you’d be happy together. I can tell.
(Music fades out and new music fades in)
And I still believe that. Genuinely. Not that you trust a word I say anymore. And that too I understand.
It feels like I used you. I know I threw you into the fire for what? Because I enjoyed the way the flames danced. Because I wanted to make shadow puppets on the wall. No. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t trying to throw you to her to keep her busy or to distract her until I came back. I’m not coming back. I wasn’t trying to set up for some sort of… showdown between the two of us because I think I can beat you or something. My word, this isn’t a soap opera. This isn’t a drama or anything like that. This is real life. This is your life. I see that.
And it’s hers too. And in that life, I thought she was over me. I really did. But how could I know, you want to ask. Was that also a vision?
No. It was our reality, as we knew it. Things were over when I left. There was space in her life for you, I thought. I’m genuinely surprised she doesn’t agree. And I wish she did. Really. It’s better that way. It’s better for her. Better for you. Better for pretty much everyone. Or everyone who matters.
(Music fades out)
She doesn’t see it, I know. But I really wish she did. I really do. I’m sorry.
(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?