ONLY BECAUSE HE OWES THAT TO ME

Nina calls, coincidentally, while I’m transcribing my description of her situation.

I am so sorry, she says. I had a friend’s bachelorette party in New Orleans.

Sorry for what? I say.

I didn’t call you after your trip to see Mark.

I didn’t expect you to call right away, I tell her. And it’s only been a couple of days since I visited.

But I’ve been thinking of you. Tell me: How was it?

I summarize the visit and then ask Nina how she’s doing.

No, she says. We are talking about you. I want to hear more about the visit. How did you feel after the second day seeing him?

Empty, I say. I thought I’d feel differently, but after I said goodbye and got in the cab, I felt wiped.

That makes sense, Nina says. There was so much buildup. And then, what more could he tell you?

I don’t want this to be a one-sided conversation, I say. How are you doing?

Nina laughs.

Nothing interesting is happening with me right now, she says. How are you feeling now? Are you still feeling empty?

Sort of. Empty and stuck. Ever since I got back, it’s been hard to write.

As a reader, Nina says, I would want to know if your views about the friendship have changed.

That’s a good question, I tell her. I haven’t yet written about that.

Have your views changed?

I don’t know. Friendships are founded on intimate bonds and trust. Sort of like how you and I quickly became friends in the psych ward, fast-forwarding to the deep, serious stuff. So with Mark, it’s as if we’re becoming friends again, forging this deep bond based on this horrible act that he’s afraid to talk about with anyone else. But I’m not going to be friends with Mark. That’d be impossible at this point. He and I are having this intimate conversation, but only because he owes that to me. Do you think you would ever confront your ex about what he did?

No, definitely not. I’ve been thinking about that, actually. I never want to see him again.

. . .

ME: Nina is one of my closest friends. And I feel fortunate—because I have so many great female friendships. But in high school, I remember, I used to pride myself on being friends with guys.

HIM: Trying to be a cool girl has been toxic for any number of people over the years.

ME: Yeah. I tried not to seem like I cared about my clothes and hair and makeup—at least not as much as the other girls. I used to think the other girls were occupied with concerns far less important than Quake and Counter-Strike. [We laugh.] I didn’t even like those games. [We laugh.] But I have such great female friendships now, and a lot of that is because we’re so open with one another. We confide in one another. We help one another through tough situations. I don’t know how I could live without those friendships. You mentioned you don’t have close friendships.

HIM: I’m not in that position. And there are any number of reasons for it. My health has not been great. Mentally or physically. And I don’t—I’ve never been able to make friends with men. I don’t like most of the things that other guys like. I’m not—I find it hard to say this. This is more of a therapist conversation than this kind of conversation. But I got to a point where I just had to shut everything out in order to keep my head above water, and I still find myself doing that, and it inhibits me from—it kills joy. It keeps me alive, but also I have trouble experiencing joy in things, which is not great for socializing.

ME: Have you thought about getting a therapist since we last talked? I know we talked about it briefly before.

HIM: It’s one of those things I probably should do but obstinately won’t do.

ME: Why? It seems like now—it’s obviously your decision. But it seems like it could help.

HIM: Part of it is the expense. I have health insurance but it’s not particularly great health insurance. I’m sure seeing a therapist is fairly expensive. It’s also, I don’t know how comfortable I am—in some ways I feel like I can talk about this with you—like I owe that to you in a way, but I don’t owe that to a therapist. Generally speaking, I don’t know that I really want to have that conversation with a stranger.

ME: Okay. Though a therapist would owe it to you to listen. Maybe you could find a sliding-scale therapist. It might be hard. But you could do it, I think.

HIM: I haven’t explored it.

ME: I Skype with my therapist every week, and it’s been really helpful. I met him in New York six or seven years ago. Before seeing him, I used to be anti— [Server checks on us.]But yeah, I’ve found it helpful. I imagine that these conversations—they’ve been hard for you but also—

HIM: Yeah, I got—I mean, I had a minor depressive episode surrounding—which is fine, but you know, I was sort of reprocessing a lot of this stuff, and that was difficult. Our last conversation didn’t feel like closure exactly, but it was helpful.

ME: What about it didn’t feel like closure?

HIM: Part of that is just me being bad at closure. I sort of have this masochistic streak where I should be punishing myself more.

ME: Your parents don’t know about the assault. You said your sister sort of knows. She knows something happened.

HIM: I don’t know that she knows any details. I think Amber told her that—you’d have to ask Amber what she told her.

ME: I think I told you this, but last time I talked to Amber, she didn’t remember what had happened.

HIM: Okay, fair enough.

ME: And then that was when I thought maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Oh—this reminds me, I actually brought something. [I look through my bag.]

HIM: And now I’m the asshole with no gift. [We laugh.]

ME: No, no. You know what, I think I left—I’ll bring them tomorrow. I have photos for you—ones from high school. But I left them at the hotel with my questions, actually. Circling back, your sister, she vaguely knew what happened. But your parents—and by the way, I would never tell your parents. You have a good relationship with your dad now. What would—

HIM: He would—it would destroy him. It would destroy our relationship.

ME: Again, I’m not going to tell them.

HIM: I appreciate that. In some ways, it’s like a reckoning that never happened. That I just lucked out of. What will be will be.