At Dr. Lingstrom's suggestion, Sarah had begun keeping a journal of her thoughts. In many ways, it was freeing. She could regurgitate all of her worries onto the blank page and then purge them from her thoughts. She had almost filled an entire journal writing about her childhood, and some of the memories that emerged surprised her. Dr. L said it was good to put everything out there and then give herself permission to move past it. That was the goal at least--moving past the past and living in the present, living free and unencumbered. The biggest hurdle to getting on with her life was still the Ted fiasco. Sarah knew that she had done lots of work already, with Dr. L. and on her own, to take the sting out of those memories and to forgive him. The last step, according to Dr. L., would be to forgive herself.
Sarah sat down on her purple velveteen couch, her favorite piece of furniture in her cozy little house, and began to write about the chapter of her life that she still found the most painful.
"When I met Teddy Kaplan, I wanted to like him. He had so many of the qualities I'd listed in my head under the title: IDEAL MATE. I wanted to like him, but something kept holding me back. Now, I grudgingly admit it was WISE SARAH, my intuitive inner voice, but it was easy to ignore her back then. I dismissed her by telling myself that I was always too cautious and that I wasn't getting any younger. Pretty soon, her nagging warnings got fainter and fainter and I could hardly make out what she was saying. But I digress, Ted was not really my type, but he was charming and he had his heart set on wooing and winning me. It was flattering to be the object of this very successful man's attention even if he was not exactly the man I would have chosen. He had great game. He was the only man I'd met who actually seemed best described by the word dapper. He was fluent in French and Italian and had lived abroad for two years after college. I learned to overlook his goofy red hair and his awkward overly wet kissing style. I tried to see his horribly written romantic poems as endearing. Hell, I was hearing my biological clock ticking so loudly in my head that reason and common sense were blocked out by the B*A*B*Y-tick-tocking in my brain. I might as well have been a car driving down the freeway at 100 miles an hour on cruise control.
Teddy had grown up in New York City and he wore the Big Apple like expensive cologne. He knew how to get the best seats at Broadway shows and which chefs were opening up new restaurants. I had only lived in Manhattan for a few months when we met, and he became my guide to this very enticing city. I guess that I was falling in love with NYC as much as falling in love with Ted; the two were probably interchangeable in my mind. It didn't hurt that my culinary school hours were grueling and, if left to my own devices, I would have come home to my depressing little apartment every night and collapsed on the tiny twin bed with bad springs. Ted rescued me from my reclusive tendencies and got me out into the city to explore and enjoy what it had to offer. I learned where to get the best cheesecake at two in the morning and which bar was frequented by the movie stars who had seen better days. He introduced me to sushi and pierogies. My stomach fell for him months before he had a chance at my heart.
So, this parts for you Dr. L. I really, really, really don't want to write about this, but I promised you that I would get this all down on paper, so here goes.
The marriage never felt right. Miriam planned a beautiful wedding but it was much more her taste than mine. Her friends loved it; mine kept giving me quizzical looks as they struggled to find the Sarah they knew under layers of white taffeta. There were roses everywhere; I prefer tulips. Don't get me wrong, I was incredibly grateful that mom and dad were so generous with everything; it just didn't really feel like my day. To add insult to injury, my inner voice, which had been conspicuously silent for the four months of the engagement, suddenly picked that day to come out of hibernation. I drank way too much champagne at the reception in a futile attempt to shut her up.
The honeymoon in Cancun was a nightmare. Ted decided to try every adventure sport they offered. He went hang gliding one day and waterskiing the next. Day three was parasailing and day four, deep sea fishing. Luckily, I had brought a few books and sat by the pool drinking Pina Coladas and getting a great tan. I alternated between feeling intense anger and incredible shame. What kind of bride can't even keep her new husband's attention focused on her during the honeymoon?
By the fifth day, I feared that I had made an awful mistake, but I became determined to try to fix it. Maybe, he was just more adventurous than I was, I rationalized. Maybe, he was acting out because he was nervous about the responsibilities of marriage. This didn't have to be a disaster, I thought. After all, plenty of people must have experienced disappointing honeymoons. That didn't mean the marriage was a dud. Right? I gave myself a pep talk and went up to the room where Ted was changing into dry clothes after his surfing lesson. When I walked up to the room, I heard voices and figured I was at the wrong door. No, the numbers said 2010. I laughed at myself. Of course it was the right room, Ted must just have the tv on. I put the key card in the door and pulled it open when the green light flashed. There is no polite way to say this, Ted was getting a blow job from the surf instructor. The male surf instructor.
So thats my sordid story. For a very short, but emotionally devastating period of time, I was Teddy Kaplan's unwitting beard. I think I screamed. When the unfortunate scene is replayed in my nightmares, Teddy's new friend gets so startled when I scream that he bites down and blood spurts out all over. In real life, it was not quite that dramatic. Ted jumped up and said the classic disclaimer: "Its not what you think." And I shooed both of them out of the room after throwing their swim trunks at them. I packed in about 10 minutes and left, and Miriam hired a wonderful divorce attorney.
That was fourteen years ago and I have dated sporadically since, but I am clearly gun shy. That's the best I can do, Dr. L. Now, can we move on?"
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