Ticking Clocks
He wonders if memories fade like bricks on buildings. The familiar zip on the jacket and was his armor for the cruel world. The wind was pretending to be strong and bully the remnants of winter, but spring had its feet firmly planted for it’s turn. The light jacket was perfect protection from the wind and his feelings.
He remembers a time when these walks were marches of dread by these days truly enjoys the sights and smells before the feeling expulsion. It’s his coping mechanism for talking about therapy. Therapy has made open up and more communicative. The knowledge of feelings, triggers other trauma responses has saved him from the binge drinking, drugs abuse and other self -destructive paths that has consumed so many men in his age bracket. His midway break on his journey was Ray’s Bakery. The smell and sights of custards, cheesecakes, crumbles, brûuléee was almost erotic at this point. Marcus looks and Ray’s staring back at him. Ray shoots up 2 fingers and Marcus shoots up 2 fingers pressed against the glass.
2 for 2. In 2 hours after therapy, Marcus will be at the bakery processing the feelings of his session. Pastries were food for the down and broken hearted. The time and effort the baker puts into the craft , made him treasure every bite at the time. Deep down he knows that he should put that same amount of effort into his soul. After being weird outside a bakery, Marcus continues down the street.
Liking and finding new friendships has been an added benefit of his growth. Trust and openness, as the good doctor says. He flips his wrist and even after all of that drooling, he was making good time. The office building was unassuming. A postmodern aesthetic with tons of windows for natural sunlight. It was so pedestrian for the amount of secrets, sadness progress it holds.
Dr Ryan’s office always has certain peace to it. Marcus knows that this is not a home peace; there’s, a different serenity here with a different vulnerability. The assistant lets me in and he unzips and lays his jacket on the chair. He stares out at the city, and puts his arm over his head and stretches. “ Good Afternoon Marcus.” “ Hey, Doc.” Hhe turns around to the chair and smiles. DrR.Ryan is breathtakingly gorgeous. Jet black skin, beautiful and piercing brown eyes. It catches him off guard every time in the first few moments of meeting. He sits back in the chair and goes into his brain and turns off the sexual switch. She is here to help, and she has helped. He repeats this mantra 3 times and then is ready to begin.
“Doc, what do feel about people and timing?” Like right person wrong time, or maybe a person just not meant to be yours?” Knowing he only scratched the surface, she waited for him to continue. For a second his mind wanders to the start of the sessions. It’s very cringeworthy. He would walk in minimal eye contact, slow to talk about anything. His words would fumble until the tears began to flow like a waterfall. Back in the present it’s more like a podcast about his fucked up life.
“ So you have this connection with someone, openness, flirty, loyalty accountability all of the keywords that make a friendship work “ and if you blink quickly there is something other... there” Dr. Ryan is writing in her notepad looks up and responds: with.. “ Have you had a conversation?” Marcus shuffles in the chair ,“ I can’t.” “ Why not, Marcus?” She has a husband.
In a previous life Marcus loved to be an agent of chaos. If he was in pain, everyone around him has to be in pain. Dr. Ryan got to the root cause everything Marcus sees now is in a Marcus 1.0 viewpoint. Marcus would rather be naked in the middle of downtown then to walk down that path again. “ I know boundaries and I don’t cross the line at all. I just want to know why I feel this way.” His hands over his face trying to rub the trauma out of it. His voice becomes low, trembling,y.. “ Wwhy does God and the universe bring me something so close that I cannot have? “ There are these time fragments and glances where we are pulled together so close that I can kiss her” Marcus stands and looks out the window. ““ Maybe, just mMaybe, I don’t deserve a relationship at all,” with hHis head making a slight thud on the glass, Marcus wishing he could absorb into and just be stuck in time
Dr. Ryan just stares at Marcus. “ Life is like ticking clocks. Every second we choose can lead anywhere. “ Marcus but we choose and you have made the correct choice. A choice that people have failed since the beginning of time. Choosing loneliness instead of causing more pain. ItsIt’s the bravest and most selfless things you can do as human” Every second that ticks is choice you are making to be a better person. Time is the best tool we have to heal, love, and overcome” Be kind to yourself Marcus, you are doing fantastic”.
Marcus enters the elevator and the jacket is zipped to the top. His heart is open right now, someone could just walk up and steal it. The sun has now set, and he can pretend to be a shadow. He walks int to Ray’s and puts a smile on. “ Dealer’s choice, Ray.” Ray gives him a hearty smile and pours him a beer. Marcus raises an eyebrow. “Living on this earth for so long, you know the right time to offer your friend a drink.” This simple act of kindness left him speechless, his throat was closing and felt the tears coming. He looked Ray right in the eye and gave him a thumbs up. Ray knew Marcus had no energy left to to converse, so Ray pulled out a ton of stories from memories to keep Marcus entertained. After some hearty laughs Marcus grabbed Ray, hugged him tight, and wished him a goodnight.
As he hits the block of his house, a familiar voice calls out. “ Hey there.. I have been thinking about you all day.” It was her. as Hhis stomach and heart dropped. He was thrilled and terrified to see her. TICK... TICK..... Tick
About the Creator
Kristopher Hayes
38 year old writer with the biggest connections to music and art. Love food and talking about the heartache it took to get us to the present.
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