I had felt for the last month that Riley and I were making progress and working toward a meaningful relationship, but hadn’t really felt the relationship was solid until the previous night in her room. Now praying Mr. Racine didn’t press the subject, I hoped to be in and out without any problems or red flags.  

“The meetings, Mr. West. Let’s talk about the meetings,” he said.

“Progress, not perfection. That’s what they teach us, and that’s what I’m practicing. I’m making progress. Next subject, please,” I said.

“No, we’re going to discuss them and what your expectations are surrounding the meetings,” he said.

“Fucking whatever. You ask, I’ll answer,” I said.

As he scribbled on his pad I began to pick at the sole of my shoe.

“Alright. We have both agreed your problems with drinking spawned the desire to attempt another approach at life, and the meetings were a proven method for many people to stop drinking.” He paused and glared at me.

I tossed my hands in the air. “What?”

“I’d prefer that you pay attention,” he said.

I glanced up from my shoe. “Drinking spawned meetings. Meetings are good for many people. I’m a multitasker, Mr. Racine. Continue.”

He tapped the pen against his lip, eventually stopped, and allowed it to dangle loosely from between his thumb and forefinger. “Very well. Now, what I would like for you to discuss is why you feel a need or necessity to utilize the meetings as a stepping stone to recover from an addiction to sex and drugs when neither have been of concern. Can you expand on your thought process?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Mr. West. Unless something has happened I am unaware of, you aren’t nor have you ever been sexually active,” he paused and raised the pen to his lip.

“What’s your point?” I asked.

“Mr. West. Your application of the principles of the twelve step program to recover from sex addiction is without merit. We discussed this briefly six weeks ago, and you refused to discuss it in the last meeting, choosing to storm out and…” he paused and flipped through his notes.

He studied the pad of paper for a moment and eventually glanced upward. “Demand that I refer to you as ‘Brainiac’ upon your return.”

“Okay. Are you going to make a point?” I asked.

  “My point is this. You’ve suffered from grandiose delusional disorder in the past, and it appears you’re suffering from it again,” he said.

“I’m good,” I said.

“Are you of the opinion you’re a sex addict?” he asked.

I shook my head, “Nope.”

He nodded his head and pressed the tip of the pen to the pad. After writing for a moment, he shifted his gaze upward and locked his eyes on mine. “And why aren’t you of that opinion?”

“Never had sex before,” I said.

“So, you haven’t had problems in the past with having sex with your clients?” he asked.

I shook my head from side-to-side. “Nope.”

He scribbled on the pad for a moment, paused, and then continued scribbling. After exhausting himself and flipping to one more new sheet of paper, he placed the pen beside the pad and nodded his head.

“Have you had the urge to drink?” he asked.

“Well, no shit, Doc. I’m a fucking alcoholic. I want to drink right now. I want to drink when I wake up. Before I go to bed. Hell, I wish I had a beer to drink while I’m taking a shit. Yeah, I got an urge, but I’m not acting on it,” I said.

“Very well. Have you seen improvements in your life since you’ve chosen to abstain?” he asked.

“Yeah. Big ones. I met the girl. And, we’re sexually active,” I said.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“No, really. We are,” I said.

“And how does that cause you to feel?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay, I suppose.”

“Any problems with repressed memories or flashbacks?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I mean I remember all that shit, but it doesn’t bother me so much. I mean it does and it doesn’t.”

“Can you explain further?” he asked.

“Well I went to her mother’s house and met her mom and everything the other night, and after we were done eating her mom got sick and left and then she gave me head in her old bedroom. Riley, not her mom. Just to clarify.”

“Oh, and it was awesome,” I said.

“The memories, Mr. West., explain the memories,” he said.

“Oh. What about them?” I asked.

“You said the memories do and don’t bother you. Until you rid yourself of the cross, Mr. West, I fear you’ll have a difficult time ridding yourself of the feelings. Would you like to explain your thoughts?” he asked.

I shook my head. “There’s nothing to explain. You know what happened. If it happened to you, would you want to sit and think about it?”

“We’re not talking about me, Mr. West. We’re talking about you.”

“The fuck we are. I’m talking about you right now. That’s what I’m talking about, you. What would you think about it? You know, if it happened to you? Would you feel good or bad when you thought about it?” I asked.

“It didn’t happen to me, Mr. West. It happened to you. Now, would you like to talk about how the memories make you feel?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said.

“Very well. The sexual act. Did the act bother you or was it pleasurable?”

“Pleasurable,” I said.

“During the act were there any periods of flashback or thoughts of the past?” he asked.

“No, not really,” I said.

“I see. Have you any fear if you continue there may be?” he asked.

“May be what?”

“If you continue sexual activities have you any fear there may be flashbacks or recurring memories?” he asked.

“I think I’m good,” I said as I glanced at the clock.

“Based on…”

I sat and glared at him. I was done talking, and all I needed to do was make it another ten minutes and I could leave.

“You believe ‘you’re good’ based on what, Mr. West?” he asked.

“Based on the fact I believe I control that shit. You know it doesn’t come from outer fucking space, it comes from my brain,” I said.

“So, you’re in control?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking so,” I said with a nod.

“So, the belief of sexual addiction. Were you in control of that?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “Well, if you want my opinion, I created it to keep from being sexually active because I either had fear of the old memories or because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. You know. Sex has always been off limits to me, and short of whacking off I’ve always avoided it.”

“And your stories of sexual exploitations?” he asked.

“You know what they were,” I said.

“I believe I do. Do you?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“Care to explain?” he asked.

I glanced at the clock. It was nine o’clock and I needed to get to work. I stood from my seat, cracked my knuckles, and popped my neck.

“Sure thing Doc,” I said as I walked across his office.

I opened the door and turned to face him. “They were stories I made up in my head that never happened. I think my subconscious wanted an excuse to avoid sex because I was afraid of it. Well, now I’m not afraid. See you in two weeks.”

“Mr. West. One more thing,” he said as he raised his hand in the air.

“Sure, I’m in a good mood,” I said. “What you got?”

“Are you going to be honest with your female companion and let her know you’re a virgin?” he asked.

“Not planning on being a virgin for long, Doc. See ya in two weeks,” I said.

And I walked out the door.