Preface to 'Spavalous'

“Some people are just not cut out to be in a relationship.”

Perched in her tweed reupholstered wing-backed chair, Valerie sits across from me and reaches one cashmere-sleeved arm over the end table beside her, bypassing the box of tissues to grab one in a bowlful of wrapped butterscotch candies. It’s dark outside and she’s been psychoanalyzing clients every hour since daybreak. I find it hard to believe that she remembers each session; she doesn’t take notes.

Not an auburn hair is out of place in her bobbed haircut, her navy cotton blouse is starched against the pearls that drape gracefully over her breasts, and brick red lips prove a meticulous application.

Only through the smells in her office can I sense her long day. A mix of deodorants, perfumes, and the remains of lunch and dinner in the wastebasket permeate the air.

I sit in the same space as always — on the right side of the couch, directly across from where Valerie is seated. Three worn throw pillows are lodged behind my back for support, and as I adjust my position, my eyes dart around — first at Valerie, then at the stacks of psychology books stacked on their sides, lining the bottom of her bookcase. Why are they lying down, I wonder? Must the cliché of therapy scream at me from all corners of this soundproofed room?

I gaze out the window and then back at the bookcase, fixated on one particular book: Abnormal Psychology. I think about my ex-husband and his family as case studies that could fill the entire content in the four-inch thick book.

Valerie unwraps her candy as we begin our chitchat about the weather and various non-essentials that have long become part of our warm-up routine. As if by second nature, I break into an emotional purge. Today I complain about the surfacing problems in my two-month relationship with Carl, my supposed first healthy relationship as the outcome of my successful therapy. In the midst of my runaway tale of woe, Valerie sucks hard on her candy, causing her cheeks to hollow, and then yells, “Stop!” She leans forward, as if she’s got a secret to share, but instead announces, “Some people are just not cut out to be in a relationship.”

At first, I thought she had to be joking, but her direct tone was somberly serious.

Cheated! Six years of therapy to help me cope with my relationships, and the final verdict is that I may be incapable of EVER being someone’s partner in life?

As Valerie begins to enlighten me on the concept of life without a partner, I stare blankly toward her; my mind wanders into the backlash of my life.