Intermission

Sea Level started as a letter and along the way morphed into a little play. Monday afternoon as I sat with Bob, my therapist, I thought Act III was occurring but no, Act III took place that night – yes, another post to come. Looking back I realized that Monday afternoon was the intermission – stretch my legs, head quickly to the men’s room (sorry ladies, in the theatre you can never be quick enough) and then meet up with a friend. Exchange a few pleasantries and chat. Heck, I even accepted Bob’s offer of some Snapple (bet they won’t send my freebies like the rabbit lady – c’est la vie).

Bob has been quite on target in terms of understanding the balance between my sexual desires, my marriage, and the practicalities of it all. Actually Bob has only one item with no theory – Why did I feel the need to tell Carrie? Strange how that question keeps coming up.

We discuss my frustrations, a sex life at home that has pretty much “tanked” of late and one on the outside that is strangely thriving. Bob sees the obvious: I zip it and save it for home and in exchange Carrie agrees to something more than sex as “intercourse”. Seems so simple – implementation may take a while, the classic baby steps, but steps in the right direction.

Bob has a question – I am in a room with two doors: a man behind one and a woman (Carrie I presume) behind the other. And we both have the same answer. Visit the man, come out feeling empowered and head towards the woman. Now that may sound slutty on the surface (probably because it is slutty), but in a microcosm he has defined to a great degree where I am.

One might wonder – why even have Act III: have I not telegraphed the plot line already. The thing is that as good as Bob is, and he is good, he has made a miscalculation in all of this.

Wait, the lights are flashing, need to get back to my seat. It is the last act in this play, but those expecting a nice package with a big bow are in the wrong theatre. There will be no Jean Valjean seeing the face of God, no ending with a stage full of dancers hoofin' it. This is a drama and dramas both in real life and on the stage never really end.