Q: Her horses can swim, but your airplanes can't fly.

Being in the same room with two emo-ing individuals is not good for the heart. But it is only to be expected of a Psychology major to provide some sort of consultation or solution to the dilemma in mind. Forgetting the fact that I was still “in-training”, I sat silently for a whole minute, staring at them both, careful not to step on a landmine that could possibly leave my “clients” either scarred for months or worse still, not gaining anything from this exchange. My main priority was to walk out from Apt A19 with a smile on the face knowing that the heavy mist surrounding them has lifted for good. The silence broken as she spoke first. Nice, now we’re getting somewhere.

[A partial love story, you guys like to call it “one-sided”. She’s been at it for a while, all of us, aware of this impossible relationship and of her endless pining for his attention. Wishful thinking, the girl wants to wait on miracles, believing that her efforts would pay off one day. Denial is hounding her willingness to let go, eventhough the guy had already rejected her advances quite some while ago.]

Sniffles can be heard and she reached for the tissue box. Shuffling in my seat, I immediately jumped into the REASONING mode. This story has been heard once too many times from her, and this I hope, is the last. 30 minutes later, she remained quiet; perhaps she was reluctantly trying to digest reality.

He smiled at my seemingly successful intervention and winked, as if to say, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, same time, and same place.” Returning the favor, I gestured to the girl, a sign to wish her a good night’s sleep. On the way out, I pat on his broad shoulders. ShetaT hovered at the stairs quizzically, and immediately I was showered with questions. Rumors remained unanswered.

How is my "client" doing now? She’s with her laptop singing the blues away. :)

Teddy Grahams to the rescue!
Vonnie S.