Mommy, Can I Keep Him?

Those stories about kids who bring home stray animals are so romantically charming to me. I used to fantasize about being like that, but in reality I was always a bit of a fraidy-cat.

In junior high, however (having wasted away my childhood years when such behavior would have been more understandable), I found a baby field mouse in the middle of the street, and rescued the little darling. I named it "Tucker," bathed it in a Dixie-cup, and held a funeral in the backyard the next day when my dear personal pet passed away. Yes, I was aware that it was not normal for a girl my age to even think about touching a mouse, let alone bring one home, swaddle and sing lullabies to it... but that was all the more reason to do it. I delighted in being a bit odd.

So, even though I never had the guts to be a St. Francis of Assisi (and in reality, I don't like having to deal with the messes animals make), I've still managed to do a bit of collecting that fulfills that romanticized ideal.

My most recent collectible is my "therapist." Why the quotation marks? you may ask, thinking it fairly logical that a nutcase like me would have a therapist. Well, perhaps I should, but I can't afford one, and I'm too lazy to go out and get one, and I could go on and on with excuses. But even if I don't have a therapist, that doesn't mean I can't have a "therapist." Let me explain what difference the quotation marks make:

myspace. It's a virtual world where I suspect an awful lot'a people do an awful lot'a things they wouldn't necessarily do in the real world. It's also a wonderful place to become intimate "friends" with people we don't even know. I don't accept friend requests from people I haven't actually met or had "some" connection with in the real world, but sometimes the definition of connection gets a bit warped. I've accepted a lot of requests from old classmates simply because we have friends in common and I don't want to be a snob, but some of them I really don't remember.

One particular request came from Dirk. I didn't remember him, so I looked him up in the yearbook. Okay, the face was familiar. I'm not sure I EVER spoke with him in college. He was cute, cool, talented... and I was shy. But he was requesting me now, so maybe he really did remember me (or maybe he was just requesting all the fellow alumni he could find.) Either way, I saw no harm in adding him to the collection of distant acquaintances (most who just remain silent and weirdly "there" on my friends list). In that manner, Dirk and I became "friends."

It wasn't long before I learned (from his frequent myspace posts) that he was a psychologist. Cool. He posts a lot of self-help, reflection type stuff. I'd read, but I didn't comment on it because I figured we didn't really know each other... but then one day, he posted a comment on an old photo of me, indicating that he found it... um, attractive, I guess... and wondered why we didn't know each other better then. That conversation kind of broke the ice, and I started reading and commenting occasionally on his reflections.

He also posted music videos and through some of the things he posted I learned that we had a little bit of a rebellious streak in common. He took note of some of the poetry I posted and through all of this, I learned that he had an understanding about relationships that has actually helped me sort through some of the struggles I have in my marriage. His self-help was helping me mainly by letting me know that I'm not alone in the struggles. He's had quite a few of his own (being a divorcee) and had even more of others (his clients) to observe and learn from. I made a joke once about "using" random encounters with him on myspace to elicit free therapy. He chided me for that, yet has continued to dialogue with me.

myspace is weird though... things aren't always as private as a person might think, and one day, Todd noticed a comment I had made on one of Dirk's posts, and since Dirk's profile is public, Todd saw it there and HE posted a comment on it, too. Then Dirk friend-requested Todd (Dirk's a bit of a friend-collector.) Not that I was doing anything wrong, but it was a little weird--like a line of etiquette had been crossed that left me uncomfortable. My husband and my therapist (I mean, "therapist") -- isn't there a conflict of interest there? I guess there wouldn't be if we were "in therapy" together (couple's counseling--which I know we probably need, but Todd's clueless and I'm too non-confrontational to suggest it.) So, did I feel like my "client confidentiality" was in jeopardy? or did I feel like Todd might interpret some of my banter with Dirk as flirting? I mentioned it to a friend, and she said, "Maybe you need to find a new therapist."

"No!" I thought, "I want to keep this one!" And suddenly I felt like that silly girl bringing home a field mouse, just because it remotely resembled something she romanticized about (like I often think I *should* be in therapy), and because it was a slightly weirder version of the normal ideal (like Dirk is a little too much the "bad boy" I would be tempted to flirt with to really be a 100% trust-worthy counselor.)

So, I'm thinking, I guess I just like playing with fire (or mice?) I should probably just take Dirk to the side of a wide open field and say, "Run, Tucker, run!" But, I want to keep him. I like having my pet "therapist" and I fantasize that he's actually helping me, when in reality, he's probably just entertaining me.