"Some people sabotage their happiness because they don't believe they deserve any," I say to the imaginary female therapist, no doubt quoting another therapist or some psychology book I read at some point.
"Do you look back at your life, and see you doing that to yourself?" She's scribbling on her pad.
I can't tell if she's writing or doodling. "When it comes to romantic relationships, I just don't think there was that much happiness to be had. I remember spending three days with [Mr. FS], who had asked me to marry him, three days, mind you, and after that, I was like, 'I have to get away from this man.' I hated being with him that long. He was a mean person....I could just go down the list..."
"Do you ever remember a time you were happy with someone?"
"Yeah, every time I stepped through that door at [Morpheus]'s house. Even if I'm mad at him, I'm still happy to be with him. I mean, if you could bottle that shit, I'd be IV'ing it all day long."
"Is this getting in the way of your studies? Your thoughts about him?"
"I don't know. I got my score back for my microbiology midterm. I got a 66%. That's the lowest grade, by far, that I've received in the past two years at [community college]. So, who knows?"
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