Pain is Pleasure

My Dearest

I have found, and am now apart of what many run from due to fear. I too have tried to run from it, but you have kept me held in your grasp. One would say it that it is insane for a human to enjoy the pain in which is received from another. I would beg to differ, for I find the most joy in the pain that I experience with you. With your pain I am reminded that I am alive, and alive with you is greater than the life in which angels speak of, before or after death.

I am a silent man when trouble spots me; you have known this, and yet, still you are angered by my silence. I beg of you, master of my present heart, allow me time of grievance in solitude. I assure you that you will soon find your opportunity to wipe my tears away, but patience is the greatest cloth for my watery eyes. Though I wish for your patience, I am also appreciative of your eagerness to cure my pain.

I apologize for only expressing my truest feelings through ink, but I am not well spoken in such translations as these. I have read words written by John Keats and only think of you, “Ask yourself … whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom”. He speaks of the woman who has stolen his heart and confined him to hers. You have done the same for me. I would rather sit, in silence, in a room with you that is fogged with frustration, than to have the wings that would carry me to the land of a thousand women. I have been taken by your spell, and only hope to never forget how to woo you.

Often, when we are comfortable with someone we forget to remember them first before ourselves. Only the memory of their happiness cannot be enough to satisfy the senses of pleasure. It is only pleasurable to experience the happiness of another soul. I hope to find pleasure with you day after day until there are no more days to be counted.

TLK

Lights Out (Part V)

Sarah stared into Tony’s eyes; she was lost, searching for a reason why his lips landed on her’s. She could not understand why she felt such a sensation. She was supposed to feel disgruntled in some type way. This was not ok to her. He was her patient, and still madly in love with his wife. She seemed to forget all of this as the warmth of his body sat next her’s.

They looked at each other, both confused and satisfied. Tony opened his mouth to speak when he was rudely interrupted by nature. The thunder roared loud outside and scared Sarah. He saw she was frightened, and quickly grabbed and console her. The lights in the bookstore went off. They sat together in the darkness wondering what was happening now, and what was to come next.

The emergency lights came on in the store, and they were given orders to stay inside. Tony kept his grip on Sarah as they began to get comfortable with the new situation.

“Ya know! I’d have to say; you’re a much better listener than most people. It’s very reassuring.”

Sarah smiled and shook her head, “Well, it wasn’t always this way. I used to be really chatty when I was younger. My mother would always tell me that if I ran as much as I talked, I would be in the Olympics. I guess, I have my training to thank for the ears that I have now.”

“If you were so talkative when you were younger, why didn’t you become a lawyer?”

“That was my father’s dream. He always wanted me to go to law school, but I was always a rebel when it came to his advice.” Sarah shifted herself in Tony’s arms, “I wanted to be a ballerina. My mother put me into dance classes when I was four. From that first class on, I kept spinning my way through life, and I made sure to ignore my father as much as possible.”

Tony looked deep into her eyes in search of some kind of truth, “Why?”

“He never wanted me to dance. He didn’t say much at first, but as I got older, all he wanted me to do was focus on school. Since he didn’t want me to do what made me happy, I just ignored him. My mother was enough support for me.”

“So why aren’t you a dancer now? Since you love it so much, why haven’t you continued to dance?”

Sarah then became uncomfortable and released herself from the comfort of Tony’s arms. She stared off into the distance and remained silent.

Tony recognized her discomfort. It was very familiar to him now, discomfort. He asked her, “Is something wrong? Do you want to talk about something else?”

“No. It’s ok. You need to hear this.” Sarah looked into to Tony’s eyes, as if trying to pierce his soul. “My father always drank whenever he was angry, this particular time was no different. We had both been arguing all week about my dance performance, which happened to be the night before I was scheduled to take my SATs. He didn’t want me to perform that night. Instead, he wanted me to stay home and study. I was determined to perform; it was my senior year of high school, and I was not going to miss anything that was important to me. He and my mother got into it that day, which made him drink more than usual.”

She paused, then continued, “Whenever they went anywhere together, my father always drove. No matter if he had a few drinks or not, he always drove. I guess it was something about wearing the pants in the relationship, I don’t know.”

Sarah ran her hands through her hair. All of her frustration and pain showed through her face and hands. She tapped her foot on the ground as her knees shook, and she rocked slightly back and forth. Tears began to form as she began to speak, “The show was at the theatre downtown, our winter show always was a hit. Every year people filled the seats to watch our spectacle. My mother invited her assistant, Candice, to the show. She came with her husband, and they sat in the reserved seating section. I always peaked out the side curtain before every show, just to see how many people came to see me perform. I saw Candice, but I didn’t see my mother. I figured that they were running late or something.”

Tony rubbed her back and tried to make her as comfortable as possible. He wanted her to trust him with her pain and heartache. He listened intensively and only spoke when it was needed.

Sarah became more broken as her story continued, she began to curl up and cry harder. Her words were now very sob like and hard to understand. “They,” Sarah struggled through her next sentence, stuttering along each word. “They never made it.” She sniffled and tried to compose herself as she continued, “The car flipped a few times and landed on the passenger’s side. Mama died at impact and my dad was paralyzed at the waist.” She placed her head in her hands.

Tony attempted to ease her pain, “You don’t think it was your fault do you?” Though this question was very innocent, Sarah looked at Tony with an expression that only read, “You dumb fool. What do you think?”

She shouted at him, “Of course it was my fault. If I had stayed home and studied like my dad asked me to, he wouldn’t have been drinking, and they wouldn’t have drove that night. My father would still have his legs, and my mother would be alive today telling me how flowers are life’s teddy bear.”

“Sarah, calm down now. Just listen. Things happen, and sometimes they don’t happen the way we want them to, or how we wish them to be, but they just happen how they do. Don’t beat yourself up!”

She eased herself as she replied. “My father blamed himself forever. He never picked up a drink again, and he didn’t speak for months after the accident. It was hard in our house at that time. I didn’t have my mother, and he didn’t have his wife. He loved my mother. He tolerated me, but he loved my mother.” She made sure to emphasize the word love so that Tony knew the level of which her father loved her lover mother. “I believe I tolerated him as much as he did me. Since my mother was gone, we had to try to figure out a way to make it work, at least until I went off to college. My dad was so broken though, so I decided to find out how to help him get over everything. I read a bunch of books on human emotions and how different events alter a person’s emotional balance. By the end of the summer I was able to get my dad smiling and painting again. So then I went off to school as a psychology major and the rest is history.”

“Well you’re obviously good at helping people with their problems, but who do you go to for yours?”

Sarah smiled as she looked at Tony, “I don’t need anyone to cry to, I have myself.”

The lights came back on in the store. Tony went and found some tissue for Sarah so she could wipe up her emotional outburst. They sat adjacent from each other as they heard the bell ring on the front door as it opened.

“Hey baby! Sorry I’m late, the traffic is terrible outside because of this storm.”

Sarah stood up. She nervously let out, “Hey! Baby!” She hugged him and turned towards Tony. “Tony, this is Stephen. My boyfriend.”

Morning Coffee (Part IV)

It was an early Saturday morning. The smell of thunderstorms was in the air, and grey clouds filled the sky. It had begun to drizzle, but it was nothing heavy yet. Sara stood inside the front door to wait for Tony; she wanted to make sure she saw him come in. She was anxious to see him this morning, wanting to know how he was doing, what he would look like outside of her office, and she wondered if his wife was still on his mind. It had been a half hour, so she decided to sit on one of the couches that faced the door. Her feet were hurting her because of the heels that she wore.

Sara began to massage her feet to try and lessen the pain, then she heard the bell of the front door. It was him. Sarah watched Tony as he walked through the door shaking his umbrella to rid it of the rain. This was not what Sarah had expected; she was surprised at his unorthodox attire. When she had first met Tony, he looked like he had stepped out of a page of GQ or off a Ralph Lauren poster. This morning he appeared to be a stylish bum. She studied him from toe to head and saw that Tony wore torn up grey sweat pants with a white thermal shirt. He covered his head with a khaki colored Ralph Lauren Polo ball cap and his eyes hid behind Ray Ban shades. He had bracelets on his wrist with a ring on every finger except for the one that counted.

“Good Morning Tony.” Sarah attempted to greet him as gentle as possible, but Tony seemed in a growling mood.

Tony walked pass her with a strong, but strange arrogance; he replied with a rough, “A mighty good one ain’t it?” Sarah was then confused. She was no longer looking at the gentleman that came into her office. This was a stranger that she had never met before, no more was he the sweet man who was madly in love with his wife, no, this was a new type of jerk. Tony moved towards the coffee counter, he smelled the aroma of the morning coffee beans and felt a grumble inside his stomach. He then turned towards Sarah and asked with a dead voice of confusion, “You wanna get some food?”

Sarah looked surprised at his offer, but she obliged him. “Yes, I haven’t eaten yet.” Tony bought two coffees and three breakfast sandwiches, one for her and two for him.

“You have the ring?”

“Yes, here you go. I’m surprised you actually left it at my office. I thought that your life revolved around everything about your wife.”

“Yeah. That would be nice, now, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you ok Tony?” Sarah was now worried about her patient. At this point Tony was no longer an attractive widower, he was only a patient who was in need of her help. Sara leaned across the table to grab Tony’s hand and smelled alcohol. “Tony! Have you been drinking?”

“Well, my dear,” Tony threw his hands above his had as to plead innocence and blurted out, “Today is Saturday.”

Sarah looked at him with a face of disbelief and disapproval. “Saturday? But Tony, it’s not even ten yet.”

Tony smiled and looked straight into her eyes, “Well I guess your right, but I just figured, this morning, that I would spend some time with my best buddy Jack D. He always seems to know how to take away the pain.”

“Tell me about Saturday. What about Saturday is causing you so much pain?”

Tony stood up and maid his way over to a couch in the middle of the store. He placed his plate and mug down lightly on the coffee table as he sat down. Sarah followed Tony, sat adjacent to him on the couch and waited for him to begin speaking.

“Saturday was the day we spent in bed. Every weekend we took a drive out to our summer home that her father bought for us as a wedding gift. He was slammed under piles and piles of all kinds of money.” Toni took a bite out of one of his sandwiches; he looked at her and took another bite. He washed down the sandwich with a sip of coffee and continued his story. “Every Saturday morning we laid in bed and ate pancakes. We would trade off who would cook each week, even though she would usually throw the chefly duties at me. I didn’t mind because I would love to just watch her sleep. She was the type that slept peacefully, such that she almost looked better sleeping than she did while she was awake.”

Tony grabbed the last bite of his first sandwich; he wiped his mouth with a napkin and took his time to think of what to say next. “I used to love that place. What I loved most is that it allowed us to get away from reality for a while. Though we were two functional adults, we were two adolescents in grown bodies. I would love to just watch her run around the field, or swing from the tire swing that we set up. Sometimes we would swim together in the lake behind the house, or lie in the field and study the cloud images, then remain in the same spot and make pictures with the stars. It was always so easy to just be there with her. We never argued there, even when there was a problem bugging one of us, we just waited until we got back to the city to discuss it.” Tony grabbed his mug and rubbed the rim, “You know why that place is really special though?” Tony paused as if to wait for an answer then continued, “We actually had our first kiss there. She took me out there and showed me the abandoned home and the field that she loved and told me that she would live and die in that house one day. We stood by the lake, and as the sunset sparkled over the ripples I leaned over and kissed her. It was perfect.”

Tony then stopped speaking and looked at Sarah. Maybe it was the alcohol starting to get to him, because when he looked at her he did not see her face, he saw Mary in her place. He then leaned over and kissed her.

"New Message" (Part III)

“There is only one thing worth living for, one thing worth dying for, and one thing worth every breath of my being, that is love. My darling, how I miss you. It seems like forever since I have seen you; you are forever away, forever miles, and it would take forever to get to you. But hope still keeps me warm at night; I am hopeful that I will see you soon”

Sara walked into her suburban home, “Dad what are you yapping about now?”

With the most ancient sound of excitement he shouted, “Hey baby girl! How was your day, saving the world one mental case at a time?”

“Daddy!” She wined at his comment as she always does. “I told you not to joke about my patients. Besides, I actually had an interesting one today.”

Her father now was interested, “Oh really? And how is that?”

“I can’t tell you, silly goose!” She always played with her father like this nowadays; she didn’t know how much time they had left together, so she decided to give every moment a smile. “What are you doing?”

“What I always do sweetheart. Painting.”

“Painting?” Sara walked over to her father, leaned over and hugged him from behind. “What are you painting?”

“Oh well I thought today that I would paint flowers. Calla-lilies seemed to spark my interest today.”

“Well that’s nice.” Sara kissed him on the forehead, then made her way to her computer to check her email before she went off to bed.

Hey Sara,

I believe that I left my wife’s wedding ring in your office. I was hoping that you had it and that we might be able to meet up so that I can get it from you. I have flexibility with my writing schedule; so whenever you are free, just let me know.

Also, I was thinking, since we were talking about Mary so much in our session, it would probably be good for you to know how we began our relationship. We first met in a bookstore. I remember that I noticed her, but I was not really impressed with her looks, I thought of her as just decent, at first sight. She wore a fitted ball cap and sweat pants, not really the most attractive outfit.

I was stuck in the Romance section, I am a fiend for Nicholas Sparkes; I began thumbing through a few of his novels. I picked up my favorite work of his, The Notebook, a classic piece of writing that inspires me in both my professional and my social life. I used to actually dream of one day having a love like that of Noah and Allie. My deep recollection of what I hoped my life to be, was interrupted by the sweetest voice, it was Mary. She has that kind of voice that could ease your mind and put your soul at peace. It was nothing sexy, but surely it was soothing.

“I didn’t know that guys read these kind of books.” She was refreshing; her voice seemed to come from heaven and then I took a look at her. I still was not impressed with her entire image, but she sucked me in with her eyes.

I stuttered with my initial reply, “Well, I am not most guys.” This would have been a smooth line if I didn’t stutter. I didn’t feel bad because she giggled at my nervousness and answered slickly, “I usually get that way when I’m around pretty girls as well.” I shook my head at the arrogance of her comment, but that is just how she is, a sort of cocky funny.

Yes she was pretty, but not that of my taste, though I did love her eyes. I usually am attracted to the model type of women, tall thin, and radiant beauty. But, I always seemed to get lost in her blush brown eyes every time we met. To me, her eyes were the tunnels to heaven, I saw angels with every glance. The mixture or her eyes and voice, gave me reason to continue talking to her. No matter what else she would say, I had the perfect opportunity to stare at her eyes or just listen to the peaceful sound flowing from her mouth. So I sat selfishly indulging in her attributes.

We continued to talk for about another hour, about how she was working on decorating her new house a few miles away. For some reason she was able to keep my attention, even though I am the biggest protestor of HGTV. This somewhat amazed me though, how this small lady could work on a house all by herself; it peaked my interest and I wanted to see it once she finished. I had actually begun to like her after one conversation. Her personality had overshadowed my doubt in her beauty, and that was special to me.

We had decided to meet up for drinks later that evening. It was a Tuesday night, and I decided to go to a bar downtown; this same night is when I fell in love with Mary. A psychic could not have prepared me for the night that was to come before me.

On Mary (Part II)

Tony froze; lungs inflated with hesitation, and his mind racing a million miles a minute trying to find something to say. He searched for the words to describe the dark sea that he was currently drowning in. He closed his eyes for a moment to remember her, and then he opened them to prevent the birth of tears.

Sarah waited patiently for him to answer. She examined his movements, every wince of his lip, each double blink, even the way he rubbed his hands was taken into account. His nervousness was obvious, so she did not pressure him into a quick answer.

Tony began to speak, his voice was broken and his words were somewhat choppy. Tears began to fall from his cheeks as he spoke, "I have not seen her for three periods of thirty days, but I have seen rose gardens and ocean waters. My eyes have been filled with the genius of God's hand, his artistic touch left upon nature, but I have missed her face. I was, and still am, so madly in love with that woman that my heart would literally beat at her pace. If she was asleep while I stayed up late struggling for words to finish a project, my heart would beat as slow and as soft as her's. On days that she ran through the fields of our summer home, I would lay on the porch swing and marvel at her beauty while holding my chest to slow down my racing heart. Now that her's beats no more, I wish for mine to go at the same rate, but not all wishes can be granted. Not even death can be given when asked for, it only sneaks up and takes you by surprise like the thief in the night. Death will be pleasant, for when I die, my heart will beat again."

There was a certain stillness in the room now. The sounds that filled the room were the sniffles that came from Tony's nose and the sound of the running air-condition.

Sarah placed her glasses softly on her notepad, which sat comfortably on her lap. Her eyes gazed deep into the soul of the man that lay before her. For years she has studied human behavior. She has come up with theories on why women tend to like jerks, but search years hoping to fall in love with the right man. And why men tend to want multiple sexual partners, but look down upon women who are just as promiscuous.

After all of the pages of knowledge that she has packed into her brain, along with the countless patients she has dealt with, this particular encounter was her most challenging. She had to battle with the most powerful entity known to man, love. Love has the ability to overtake every rational sense of a person, and the worst part is that once love takes over a person, he or she will never be in control.

“Well Tony, you sure do love your wife.”

“This is true. To death.”

“Have you contemplated suicide?”

“I have thought of being with my wife. I am my happiest when I am with her. So in order to rid myself of this mountain of depression, I think it will be best for me to go where she is.”

“What is stopping you?”

“She wouldn’t be happy if I did such a thing. She was always an optimist. She believed that things would always get better, no matter what the situation was. So I’m tied in an inevitable knot.”

“I see,” she paused to think, “Well, can we make a deal?”

“Yes.”

“I want to see you once a week for the next three months. In each session we can talk as much as you want, you can tell me all that you want, or we can be silent. It is all up to you, but I want you to make sure that you are here, once, every week. Deal?”

“I guess I’ll have to hold off the big jump for another week, huh doc?” Tony said this in a joking manner.

“Tony, that’s not funny!”

He smiled and walked out of her office to schedule an appointment for the next week.

Meanwhile, Sarah stayed in her office to think over her plans for this patient. She closed her eyes to imagine what he might be feeling at this moment and what would be the best way to help him. She sat there rubbing her forehead gently for ten minutes then opened her eyes to a surprise. She looked on the couch and found a ring rested in the center of it. It was Mary’s; Tony had left it there.

The First Session (Part I)

After the death of his wife, Tony was recommended by family to see a psychiatrist. It was a Tuesday morning and Tony found himself seated comfortably on a brown leather couch in a well air conditioned room. He examined the glass coffee table in front of him which was covered with magazines that ranged from Cosmopolitan to Time, there was even an old issue of Sports Illustrated. Tony decided to look through Martha Stewart Living, this was Mary's favorite magazine, but he could never understand her fascination with towels and curtains.

He continued to look around the waiting room and noticed the sun peeking through the window to his left, he laughed at the beige curtains that resembled the ones in the magazine he had been thumbing through. Tony was fascinated with the decorating of the waiting room and thought of his wife. She was a fiend for color schemes and center pieces, and he began to think what she might have changed about the room, or if she would have left it the same. The last thing he noticed was the single white calla-lily that sat in a blue vase in the far corner.

"Mr. Fitzgerald", Tony was disrupted from his floral examination, "Dr. Peterson will see you now."

Tony took a deep breath as he stood to enter what he thought was a "mental check-up". He walked into the room and was overwhelmed with the massive book collection that decorated the room. He thought the room looked more like a library than a doctor's office. He was then reassured about the true nature of the room as he saw the ever-popular psychiatrist couch in the middle of the room.

"Well it won't bite." Tony stopped and turned to the voice. For the first moment in what seemed like forever, he forget about his wife. Tony had never heard anything this sweet, never seen anything so nice, and only once felt time stop, that was the day that he met Mary.

"Excuse me?" Tony questioned her.

"Sit down Mr. Fitzgerald so we may begin. The chair won't bite, neither will I."

"Begin? Shouldn't we wait for Dr. Peterson?"

"Well if there is another Dr. Peterson you wish to see then sure, but for now you'll have to settle for me. Dr. Sarah Peterson." She smiled and shook his hand. She felt comfort from his strong hands.

"But your beautiful." He shook his head as he corrected himself, "I mean your a woman."

She blushed, "I am flattered Mr. Fitzgerald and yes I am a woman. But I think we should start, we only have an hour per session."

Tony shook his head in agreeance, once again studied the couch for one last time before laying down. He was then greeted with an outrageous amount of comfortability, which eased his anxiety.

"So, will it be ok if I call you Tony?"

"Please do. I am not your boss." He chuckled at his comment. Tony usually used humor as a way to cope with his nervousness.

"Well Tony, tell me about yourself."

"What is it that you wish to know?"

"Whatever it is you wish to tell me. I just want to know more about you."

"Well, I still don't know what I should tell you." Tony tried to stare at the ceiling to keep from looking at Sarah. He was dazzled by her beauty. He examined her from head to toe, finding an overwhelming interest in her face. He liked the way her brown hair was in a bun, and her complexion was something perfect to him. He loved her glasses though, he thought her glasses made her even sexier. When he looked at her, he did not in any way look at her with a disgusting lustful eye. He had the eyes of an admirer.

"I'll give you an example. I like reading. I have a dog. I like shrimp. My favorite color is green. My favorite flower is..."

"A white calla-lily?" He interrupted.

She was surprised, shocked even. "Yes", she said softly so that he could barely hear.

"I wish I were more of a conventional man. One who followed sports or went to strip clubs. One who enjoyed the thrill of roller-coasters and scary movies. But conventional I am not. No, I am one who thinks with the thoughts of red roses and church bells. I am one who has actually become more satisfied with the feeling of ink leaving a pen, than the feeling one shares while experiencing intercourse. I am fascinated with beauty and the thought of what is beautiful."

"No you are not conventional", she agreed with him. "I see you have a ring on your finger. Tell me about your wife."

(Intro) Lovely Tears

She was something wonderful, the only person that could erase all of his pain. Tony wasn't the easiest person to love, but Mary did an impeachable job doing so. She dealt with his frustrations, confusion, and misery; and he rested in her compassion. Gorgeous beyond belief, Mary was all that he could ask for and more. Tony enjoyed every second with her and dreaded the hours she wasn't next to him. They shared a passionate love.

They rested next to each other, as they do night after night, this one being special. It was a full moon and the stars lit their room while passion love was experienced in their bed. There was an incredible adoration that they each shared for one another and it was felt that night, so they slept well. Tony placed his arms around the curves of Mary's body and held her closer than he had ever done before. She felt his heart beat softly on her back. Each beat pumped love down her spine. The room was at ease.

The sun rose the next morning, as did Tony; but something was wrong, he could feel it. He looked at his wife who seemed to rest peacefully, so he kissed her cheek and proceeded with his Saturday morning ritual; pancakes and orange juice, and a single white rose from their garden.

He began to walk towards their room with breakfast in hand. Mary was usually awake by this time, but she laid in bed without movement. Tony was confused, but he looked at her with a smile; nothing was more beautiful to him than his wife, especially when she was asleep and the sunlight bled through the curtains to highlight her face. She was perfect without disruption or distraction, he could stare at her in fascination forever.

He tried to wake her with kisses on her cheek, her forehead and her lips. She didn't move. He shook her slightly and hoped for movement, but she was still. Tony was scared now, and listened for a heart beat, there was none. He checked for a pulse and found nothing. His 27 year old wife was dead. His world was empty now.

"Why?" Tony began to speak as tears ran down each cheek.

"My beautiful wife. Why must you leave me so soon? So lonely I am without you? I am nothing now."

He held his wife in his arms; tears were dropping like rain. He rocked her like a baby like that would help some how, but he was completely clueless in this situation. What is a man to do when he has lost life and love in the same breath?