I see life as one big chess game.

How so?

It’s all about getting control.

Explain.

Well, it’s about learning to be careful…

and planning ahead…

and anticipating threats…

and defending what’s yours…

and exploiting the other guy’s weaknesses…

so you can make all the right moves…

and get control of the board.

Which is the whole point of the game.

Control of the board.

Exactly.

And that’s the goal of life.

Controlling the board.

Of course.

I see. And then what?

What do you mean?

When you get control of the board,

what then?

Well, you win the game.

And then what?

The game’s over.

And then?

Then nothing. Game over.

Oh.

Why? What are you thinking?

Just that the goal of all that controlling

is…nothing.

What do you mean?

Getting control doesn’t really leave you

with anything. In the end, I mean.

I don’t follow.

No matter how skillfully you play,

whether you control the board or not,

whether you “win” or “lose,”

the game ends. For both players.

Well, yeah. I guess so.

So then I guess I agree with you.

About what?

When it comes to chasing control…

…life’s exactly like chess.

My parents didn’t like me.

Why do you say that?

They ignored me most of the time.

Then again, they were busy people.

Busy how?

Dad was busy drinking.

Mom was busy being depressed.

Oh. Right.

How do you think that affected you?

Well, I got used to being alone.

And it left me scared of certain people.

What people?

Teachers. Coaches.

Cops. Bosses.

Doctors. Dentists.

And therapists.

Yes. How did you know?

They’re all authority figures.

People who can make

you feel unimportant.

And judged.

And rejected.

And powerless.

Like the kid you used to be.

Right.

Want to hear a secret?

Okay.

I have the same problem.

You?

Yes. It’s why I became a therapist.

Don’t tell anyone, okay?

Okay.

So tell me about your family.

Do I have to?

Please.

Oh, okay.

Dad, alcoholic.

Mom, depressed.

Me, only child.

And I still am.

What do you mean?

What do you mean, what do I mean?

You’re still an only child?

Or you’re still only a child?

What a shrinkey question.

But since you ask…

Both.

You’re telling me that, inside,

you still feel like a kid.

Correct.

Well, cheer up. You’re not alone.

How so?

A wise person once said, “There’s no

such thing as a grownup human being.”

Really?

Really.

And you believe that?

Absolutely.

Thank god.

*

You know, I’m still uncomfortable

with all this.

I’m aware.

Any more ideas?

Well, there’s a Gestalt thing we could try.

What Gestalt thing?

A sort of experiment.

You move your seat back

away from me.

And you keep moving until the

distance between us feels safe

Sounds good. Let’s try that.

Okay, move back two feet.

That’s actually better.

Good. Move back two more feet.

Even better.

Good. Keep moving.

(Murmur.)

Excuse me?

(Inaudible.)

Bert, I can’t hear you.

(Even more inaudible.)

Are you still moving?

(Silence.)

Yeah, you’re still moving.

Hellooooooooo?

(Sigh.)

Oh well.

At least now we know…

…how much intimacy you can tolerate.

*

I’m still uncomfortable.

With therapy?

Yes. Is there anything else we

can try to make this easier?

Well, Freud had his patients

lie on a couch.

To relax them?

Yes, but not just that.

He wanted them to ignore him

and turn their attention inward.

Help them listen to themselves

in a deeper way.

Would you like to try that?

Worth trying, I guess.

Okay, go ahead.

How’s that feel?

Better or worse?

Worse.

Oh yes. Definitely worse.

Why?

Because now I can’t see you.

But I also can’t ignore you.

In fact now you’re all I can think of.

So it’s impossible to relax.

Much less listen to myself.

Because…

Because I’m too busy trying

to read your damned mind.

*

I don’t like therapy.

Why not?

It’s embarrassing.

How so?

Well, I sit here and talk

about my feelings and stuff…

…and you sit there and look at me.

I’m not used to that.

I don’t like, you know, being seen.

Perfectly understandable.

So let’s try an experiment.

What experiment?

Turn around so I can’t see you.

Really?

Really. See if that feels better.

Okay.

m(Silence.)

(Silence.)

(Still more silence.)

So how’s that?

I said, how is that?

Does it feel safer?

Bert? Can you hear me?

(Sniffle.)

Yes.

Why, Bert.

you hear me?

s that? unusual.Of course. That’s understandable.So let’s try an experiment.

*

(Silence.)

*****

*

“Pick your poison,” you said.

What does that mean?

*

Just that you face a choice of symptoms.

*

What choice?

*

Between the anxiety of having relationships

and the loneliness of avoiding them.

*

It’s a choice everyone has to face.

Oh. Great.

*

Is there a third choice?

*

Some people think so.

*

They think it’s possible to avoid

both anxiety and loneliness.

*

What people?

*

They’re called addicts.

*

Oh. And what what happens to them?

*

They end up both anxious and lonely.

*

Shit.

*

*

And there’s no fourth choice?

*

There is, actually.

*

Really? What is it?

*

This.

*

We didn’t talk much at home.

*

When you were a kid?

Right.

*

What was that like?

Quiet.

*

Quiet, as in peaceful? Or as in lonely?

Lonely, mostly.

*

Also confusing.

Why confusing?

*

You never knew what was going on.

What people were thinking or feeling.

*

Sounds uncomfortable.

Yes.

*

And now? How is it with Felicia?

Pretty much the same.

*

(Sigh.)

*

What did that sigh mean?

It means you’re screwed.

*

Screwed how?

*

Well, you don’t like talking.

And not talking leaves you confused and lonely.

So it’s a lose-lose situation.

*

It is.

*

Any suggestions?

Just one.

*

Pick your poison.

*

Felicia says I don’t communicate.

How so?

*

She says I don’t talk.

I see.

*

She also says I don’t listen.

And how do you see it?

*

I talk enough.

I talk when it’s necessary.

*

I think she talks too damned much.

*

I think everyone talks too damned much.

*

Why do we have to talk about everything?

*

The world needs less talk, I say.

*

More peace and quiet, I say.

You know?

*

I said, you know?

*

*

Hello?

*

*

*

You’re making a point here, aren’t you?

So. Your wife sent you.

Yes.

*

Why?

She says I have control issues.

*

What does that mean?

I have no idea.

*

She’s a little crazy, my wife.

*

She doesn’t say what bothers her?

Nope. She gets very emotional.

*

I see. And what’s her name?

Felicia.

*

Well, maybe we should ask Felicia

to come in and tell us herself.

*How would you feel about doing that?

How would you feel about that?

*

*

*

*

I’ll tell you everything.