From a conversation I had with E.S.–no, I haven’t told him yet–after a brief spat on Saturday (as I am a southern Jew, and he is a Protestant psychiatrist, clearly we have a lot of these exchanges to look forward to):
E.S.: I just want the lines of communication to be open.
Faustus: Open is fine. Open I have no problem with. Buzzing with electricity 24/7 is another story.
E.S.: But what you said hurt my feelings, and so I wanted to talk about it.
(Faustus says nothing.)
E.S.: Or I could just pretend it didn’t happen and push it down and let it come out in some other, unrelated way.
Faustus: See, that’s totally where we need to get you to.
As you might recall, my husband and I had a very Jane-Austen-y-like email exchange about who was going to be the first to say “I love you.”
Two weeks later, we were sharing the same cell–I mean, ENGAGED!
Faustus, you are such a bitch. And my husband would tell you that your exchange is so me. (With me playing you, of course.)
He’s going to require a suitable outlet for those stifled feelings….
A blog of his own?;)
I think the natural outlet would be in the form of rough, punishing, brutal sex.
Isn’t the line…”Catholics believe in forgiveness, Jews believe in guilt”?
Sorry, Dr. Faustus… I say go with the psychiatrist on this one. I’m assuming he has more training when it comes to the inner workings of your brain.
See what happens when you date a Gentile?
I dated a psychiatrist. Now, I’m a great believer in communication. But he over-analysed everything. Constantly.
Occupational hazard?
Faustus: See, that’s totally where we need to get you to.
Very, very funny.
Faustus: What did you say that hurt his feelings?
E.S. stands for extra saintly, doesn’t it? Your boyfriend is incredible!
Um, seems like a heavily sitcom-influenced exchange.
Jay (the one in Bombay)