The Last Appointment

"You're early."

"The traffic was better than I expected."

"It's always better on Thursdays. People work from home now."

"Right. Yeah."

"So. How have you been?"

"Fine. Good, actually. Really good."

"That's wonderful. I'm glad to hear it."

"You don't sound glad."

"I am. I promise. It's just, we have a lot to cover today."

"Do we?"

"Well, it's our last session."

"I know that. I'm the one who called it off."

"I'm aware. I just want to make sure we end well. That we tie up any loose ends."

"There aren't any loose ends."

"Aren't there?"

"Not for me."

"Okay. Can I ask what changed? Two weeks ago, you said you wanted to keep going. You said you were finally getting somewhere."

"I was. I did."

"And now?"

"Now I'm done."

"Done with therapy, or done with me?"

"Does it matter?"

"It might. To you, I mean."

"I got what I needed."

"Which was?"

"I don't know. Permission, maybe. To stop explaining myself."

"And you feel you've been explaining yourself here?"

"Haven't I?"

"I'd say you've been exploring yourself. There's a difference."

"Not to me."

"Fair enough. Can you tell me more about that? About what you mean by permission?"

"You always do that."

"Do what?"

"Turn it back on me. Make it a question."

"That's my job."

"Is it? Or is it just easier than having an opinion?"

"I have opinions. I keep them to myself when they're not helpful."

"See, that's exactly what I mean. You're so careful. So measured. Every word is calculated."

"And you'd prefer I be reckless?"

"I'd prefer you be real."

"I am real."

"Are you? Because sometimes I think you're just a very expensive mirror."

"That hurts, actually."

"Does it?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Why is that good?"

"Because now I know you're human."

"I've always been human, Sarah."

"You used my name. You never use my name."

"I use it all the time."

"No. You say 'you' and 'your' and 'how does that make you feel' but you never say Sarah. Not like that. Not like you mean it."

"I do mean it. I've always meant it."

"Then why does it feel like I've been talking to a wall for eighteen months?"

"Is that what this is about? You're angry with me?"

"I'm not angry. I'm just done."

"You sound angry."

"Well, you sound defensive."

"Maybe I am. A little. You're telling me I haven't been present for you, that I haven't been real, and that's, that's hard to hear."

"Because it's true?"

"Because I've been trying. Very hard. To give you what you need."

"But that's the problem. You're always trying to give me what I need. You never just, I don't know, exist with me."

"That's not how this works. You know that."

"Why not? Why can't it work differently?"

"Because there are boundaries. Ethical boundaries. Professional boundaries. They're there for a reason."

"To protect you or to protect me?"

"Both. To protect the work."

"The work. Right. The work."

"You're being dismissive."

"I'm being honest."

"There's a difference between honesty and cruelty."

"Is there?"

"Yes. And I think you know that."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I'm just tired of being the only one who has to be vulnerable here."

"That's not fair. I've been vulnerable with you."

"Have you? Name one time."

"I told you about my daughter. When she was sick. Last October."

"You told me she had a cold. That's not vulnerability. That's small talk."

"It wasn't small to me."

"But you didn't tell me you were scared. You didn't tell me you stayed up all night watching her breathe. You just said she had a cold and we moved on."

"How did you know I stayed up all night?"

"Because that's what mothers do. That's what people do when they love someone."

"You're right. I did. I stayed up for three nights."

"See? That's real. Why couldn't you tell me that then?"

"Because it wasn't about me. The sessions are about you."

"But that's so lonely. For both of us."

"It is. Sometimes."

"Don't you get tired of it? Of only listening, never sharing?"

"I share with my supervisor. With my husband. With my friends."

"But not with your patients."

"No. Not in the same way."

"Even the ones you like?"

"Especially the ones I like."

"Do you like me?"

"That's not a fair question."

"Nothing about this is fair. Do you like me?"

"Yes. Very much."

"Then why are you letting me go so easily?"

"Because you asked me to. Because that's what you need right now."

"What if I don't know what I need?"

"I think you do. I think you've known for a while."

"What, that I need to stop paying someone to care about me?"

"That you need to trust yourself. That you need to believe your own voice is enough."

"And if it's not?"

"It will be."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've watched you change. I've watched you stop apologizing for taking up space. Stop asking permission to feel angry or sad or confused."

"I still ask permission."

"Not as much. Not like you used to."

"I asked you earlier. If it was okay that I hurt your feelings."

"No, you didn't. You said 'good.' You owned it. That's different."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just, I hadn't thought of it that way."

"There's still work to do. There's always work to do. But you can do it without me now."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you come back. You call me. You make an appointment."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Even after I called you a wall?"

"Even after that."

"And an expensive mirror."

"That one stung more, honestly."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. You were being honest. Even if it was a little cruel."

"I learned from the best."

"Are you calling me cruel?"

"No. I'm calling you good at your job. Too good, maybe."

"There's no such thing as too good."

"There is if it makes people need you."

"Do you need me?"

"I did. I don't think I do anymore."

"Then I've done my job."

"Does that make you happy or sad?"

"Both. Always both."

"Yeah. Me too."

"For what it's worth, Sarah, I'm going to miss you."

"You're not supposed to say that."

"I know."

"But you said it anyway."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because you're leaving. Because I can. Because some rules are meant to be broken on the last day."

"Just the last day?"

"Just the last day."

"That's something, I guess."

"It's everything. It means you're ready."

"I don't feel ready."

"No one ever does."

"Did you? When you first started doing this?"

"God, no. I was terrified. Every session, every patient. I thought I was going to break someone."

"Did you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably. We all do, a little."

"That's honest."

"It's the truth."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For that. For all of it. Even the parts I hated."

"Especially the parts you hated?"

"Especially those."

"Then we did good work."

"We did. Didn't we?"

"We did."

"So, what now?"

"Now you stand up. You walk out that door. You live your life."

"And that's it?"

"That's everything."

"Okay. Okay."

"Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be fine. Better than fine."

"You sound pretty sure."

"I am."

"I wish I was."

"You will be. Give it time."

"How much time?"

"However much you need."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."

"I guess that'll have to be enough."

"It will be. It is."

"Okay. I'm going now."

"I know."

"I'm really going."

"I know you are."

"Goodbye, Dr. Mitchell."

"Goodbye, Sarah. Take care of yourself."

"I will. I think I finally will."