"But you said," I glanced at my notes, "you said you felt like Roger had helped you, but you weren't sure if his services had worked."
"That's right." She nodded, taking a deep breath as though preparing herself to speak weighty thoughts, or admit something unpleasant. "I know I should want to have a partner. I know I should want to date someone who I don't have to pay to be intimate with me. But I don't. I don't want to."
"So, you haven't been on any more dates?"
"No. I haven't. Roger has helped me, definitely, but whenever I think about dating someone, I still feel the same crippling anxiety. Except now, now that I have Roger, I have no reason to address that anxiety or clear that hurdle. He gives me everything I need. And so I don't feel like I need to date anyone. Ever."
19
FreeHAL
A self-learning conversation simulator (chatterbot) which uses semantic nets to organize its knowledge to imitate human behavior within conversations.
Source: Chatterbox Challenge
"Marie?"
"What?" I blinked, bringing Matt back into focus.
His eyebrows were expectant arches suspended on his forehead as he glanced meaningfully to the side. I followed his gaze and found our waiter had returned.
Crap.
We'd left Roger to Zara's gentle care and walked the Village streets until we found a promising-looking and wonderful-smelling bistro. Matt pulled me inside and now here we were.
"I'm sorry," I split my attention between them both, "I still don't know what I want. Can I have a few more minutes?"
"Do you mind if I order an appetizer then? I'm hungry."
"Sure. Go ahead."
"In the mood for anything?" he asked.
"No. Please. Go ahead. Order whatever." I read the menu, hoping something would jump out at me.
"We'll take the beets au gratin and the baked brie tart. Oh! And the chicken liver pâté. And a bottle of wine. Red something. I trust your judgment."
The waiter smirked without looking up, finished writing our order, and left us.
As soon as he was gone, Matt asked, "Are you still thinking about Zara?"
I nodded, setting my elbow on the table and placing my chin in my palm. "I just feel so badly for her."
I'd told Matt the gist of Zara's story as we'd searched for a place to eat. I'd be writing about her anyway, so I didn't feel I was breaking her trust by telling Matt what we'd discussed. Plus, I needed to talk about it. I needed to process it.
"Why? Because her choices don't adhere to traditional ideas of normality? Because she doesn't want a romantic life partner?" Despite the pointed nature of the questions, his tone was gentle.
"No. Not at all. If she'd eschewed traditional ideas of normality because it was her choice to begin with, or because she'd found an innovative solution that brought her true happiness, then I'd applaud her resilience against the pressures of society's dictates. But it's not. She's not happy. This isn't her first choice. She feels . . . trapped."
Matt nudged his silverware until they were all perfectly parallel. "Did she say that?' His voice sounded odd, tight, and he wasn't looking at me.
"She didn't have to. She's found a work-around, and recognizes that it's not what she wants, but fear keeps her from moving forward. She's crippled, but she's not too broken, not enough to put the effort in to fix her situation."
He examined me, looking surprised. "Not too broken?"
"Exactly."
"Interesting choices of words."
"Why?"
"Because . . ." An edge of something new entered his voice; was it defensiveness? "Because not everyone wants or needs to be fixed, Marie."
"I know that, Matt. I'm not trying to fix her, and I'm not judging her," or you, you stupid, stupid dehydrated horse, "but that doesn't change the fact that I wish . . ."
Damn.
"What? What do you wish?" he asked quietly, studying me intently, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
Crap.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
What are you doing?
I thought I was over wishing for more with Matt, but it continued to rear its ugly head.
Again, nothing is ever going to happen. You know this. Still wanting him, after seeing with your own eyes that he's sleeping with other women, makes you pathetic. He said he loves sex, didn't he?
I was so frustrated with myself. I should have known he'd be hooking up with other people. He'd probably been sleeping with other women this whole time. I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw him last Friday.