Souls in Dance

#antilovedrug #psychology #romance #soulsindance

"So, I was just a case study for a shrink all this time?" I said, anger simmering in my voice. "And then you wonder why I struggle to be vulnerable." I took a deep breath. "First, you hid this from me. You presented yourself as a choreographer and dancer. Then, I had this constant feeling that I would end up hurt if I opened up to you. Why did you hide it from me?"

"The answer is simple—I mirrored the effort you gave me. Though I must note, I went further with my operation,"  he said, his tone measured and composed.

"You only did it to make me your case study, didn't you? Nothing more. And you lied about undergoing the operation because I gave you courage."

"I didn't lie, Margaret. I am vulnerable. I was in pain. Meeting you gave me hope that my life could feel normal again. I took a chance, which I had been too afraid to take. It could have easily left me in a wheelchair, but I took the risk. Showing you my vulnerability might inspire you to open up, too."

"Why does my vulnerability matter to you?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief as I turned my gaze toward the window. "I can't believe I'm even asking this."

"It's simple. A vulnerable person isn't fake."

"I am fake?"

"No, you are innocent. But you've become so accustomed to being in control that you've lost touch with your true self. I'm not sure you fully express who you are, even in moments of intimacy. Your journal didn't reveal much in that regard."

I sit there, head in hand, silent, staring at him. I can't hear or see—trapped in my thoughts. I feel like a case study for a psychologist, an experiment gone too far. I need to end this. I have to get off this couch and escape. But I need strength to stand, move, and break free.

"Margaret, take a sip of water," he says gently. He's sitting beside me, one hand resting on my shoulder, the other holding a glass of water. I can hear his steady, close, and calm breathing. He's trying to support me, to anchor me.

I take the glass, drink the water, then stand. Without a word, I leave.