Re: Call: Dietre A./Hugh C.
I don't mind. [His mind wanders through whether he should take his old convertible or the Subaru, or maybe he could just go buy a new car before Wednesday to be flashy and impressive, and that thought gets settled with a strict 'not necessary' to himself, and then he's quiet, listening, listening...]
I don't really talk on the phone very often either. My Mom, basically. Well, and my therapist. Cause, she's in Seattle, and I just didn't want to go through finding a new one and having to explain all of my shit to them, and risking them being terrible, or like, feeling like they were judging me. Not that she doesn't probably, but she's kind of been through the worst of it with me so I don't feel it as hard as I would with someone new. [A beat] Plus, she's really fucking good, honestly. I don't want a different therapist. Anyway, um. Yeah? [He laughs.] Sorry, anyway. I don't know why I just figured it'd be nice, maybe.