"Jackie was great, we used to go golfing all the time, and had planned a road trip to Myrtle Beach for a golf vacation. Never made it. We stopped for gas, and then to eat at a nice little restaurant outside of Jacksonville, and I was polite, pulled her chair out when the waitress took us to our table. She sat, we ate, but she was quiet the entire meal. I had no idea what was going on, the food was good, not much of a view but it was just off a highway exit so not too much we could do about that. Anyway, we finish eating and get back into the car, and she starts screaming. I had pulled out the wrong chair you see, she had wanted my seat. I had just pulled out the closest chair, so she didn't have to walk around the table, but she had this thing where she had to see the whole restaurant when she ate, so she needed my seat. But, not once did she say that when we were sitting or eating. I would have switched! Either one was fine with me! Anyway, she made me turn around and drive her home, never made it to golf."

Doctor Merritt sighed and stopped writing. "Was this before or after the incident with," she glanced at her notes, "Lisa?"

"Before. This one was about five years ago."

"Before you went on these road trips, had you noticed any changes in the behavior of the women you were seeing? It seems odd that one incident could collapse a relationship."

I thought about it. I know I wasn't perfect by any stretch. Sure, I tried to be a good boyfriend, but I'm sure there were faults that I didn't even know about. My work schedule probably didn't help either, since sometimes dates had to be at strange times. But still, nobody had ever complained about anything big, had they? "I can't think of anything that might have happened before hand. I suppose it could have been a lot of little things I was unaware of, but in none of the instances was there a fight before the trip."

"None of the instances? We have more to discuss?" She raised an eyebrow from behind her glasses. For some reason it made me think it was like a submarine putting up a periscope. I stifled the chuckle though.

"There may have been a few more," I admitted glumly. Those were joys as well.

"How many more?"

"Only two!" I replied defensively. Of course, that was 4 total, pretty much every girl I'd dated in the last 10 years.

Dr Merritt sighed and closed her notebook. "All right, we'll try to cover those both next week, and then see if we can come up with any commonalities, or ways that we might get you to a better place emotionally."

"Hey, that's why I'm here!" I admitted, feigning cheerfulness. In actuality, I wouldn't even have been here if not for my sister refusing to talk to me unless I went. I didn't think relationships were for me anymore, so why discuss all of the failures?

I left the office, situated in a small strip mall, and hopped into my car. I could drive most any car on the lot, or like many people in my position have a fleet of cars in the garage, but I only had a single BMW X3M, mostly for the 4-wheel drive that helped in the winter. I could have gone for an SUV for the hills, but they seemed way too big since it was just me, and I didn't like driving the bigger cars. I liked them a little nimbler. The car automatically synched to my phone, but I didn't bother starting any music. Instead, I just sat in the lot, looking at my watch.

Incoming call, Georgia Mobile, was almost immediately on the display, and I pressed the button to take it on the car audio. "Virgin Mobile, can I help you?" I said with my fake business voice.

"Ethan, sooner or later you're going to run out of stupid ways to answer the phone when I call," my sister said, and I could picture her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

"Unlikely, there are just too many options. I haven't even started on banks or supermarkets."

"Ugh. Just tell me, how did therapy go?"

"It went well, more of my failed relationships being dissected and analyzed."

"Is it helping?" she asked, a little softer.

"I have no idea. We're supposed to possibly come up with a plan of attack next week. Hopefully, there is no incense and meditation involved."

"Oh, stop it, something like that might actually help get you focus on your life."

Now I was the one rolling my eyes. "Well, whatever she comes up with, I'll try it I guess."

"Have you brought up mom and dad?" she ventured.

"Nope." I shut that down quickly. No need to go there.

"Why not?" her frustration showed a little in her tone.

"I took care of that ten years ago, so unless you bring them up, I don't even think about it anymore."

"You may want to at least mention it!" Her voice was getting louder now.

"Georgia, I'll talk to her about that if it comes up, but right now I'm trying to get other stuff settled, all right? I can't get my entire life out in the first two sessions."

"I guess not," she admitted.

"All right, I have to do some shopping and then I'm heading home. You still want to come down at spring break?"

"If the weather doesn't snow me in here, I'll be there!" And now I could feel her smile.

"Okay, good. Go study and pass a test, I love you." I hit the little phone button, disconnecting the call, and let a few tears fall. No way I could never talk to her while driving, it would be too difficult.

The good thing was that spring break was only two weeks away, and hopefully Georgia would be able to get down from Boston for a visit. I know she would rather go to some beach destination, and I've tried multiple times to send her to one, but she's stubborn and insisted on visiting me instead. I'd like to think that she just loved me and wanted a family vacation, but I know she was just worried. She didn't need to though; I'm not my father.

Twelve years ago, in June, the day after my 18th birthday, our father took a handgun and shot our mother twice before taking his own life while Georgia and I were at the beach. I'm just glad that a neighbor had heard the shots so that we didn't come home to discover it, but instead came home to police tape and grief counselors. The incident would have been bigger news in the Jersey suburb where we were living at the time, but there was a major fire that weekend as well, so it was just lost in the shuffle.

At 18 I was suddenly responsible for the livelihood of me and my 10-year-old sister. Gone were the plans to go away to college, and instead I took a semester off to grieve with Georgia and then get our lives in order. I was already handy with computers and electronics, so I took a part time job at a repair shop while going to the local community college. There was a small amount of life insurance that had helped cover the bills, and I had good scholarship money from my grades to help with school, but it was still tough going for a while. The only thing that saved us was that the house had been my grandparents' and had been passed down to mom ages ago and had no mortgage. I was able to double up on summer classes to catch back up from the lost semester and kept working to supplement what was left in savings. Georgia spent several years in therapy dealing with the trauma, and while she still had nightmares, and tears on days like their anniversary she had gotten past it fairly well.

I didn't have time for therapy with the full-time school and job, and after I finished my sophomore year, I snapped a little bit. The day after my birthday, on the two-year anniversary of my father's crime, I bought the largest bottle of vodka I could with a fake ID and started drinking and didn't stop until I passed out. Thankfully, Georgia had found me passed out on the bathroom floor covered in my own vomit and had cleaned me up the best she could. I was a mess for a few days and felt like shit putting my sister through that at her age, but I think it helped.

After that day, I was fine. No more issues other than the occasional nightmare. That was ten years ago. That was how I had taken care of it. Not usually doctor recommended. I'm sure I was cured, right? 

Okay, no more getting lost in my thoughts, I put the car into gear and headed over to the supermarket for the week's groceries.