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Case File:
Name: Gaston
Occupation: Rabble-rouser
Affliction: Narcissism
History: Electra Complex
Therapist Session
Therapist: Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.
Gaston: A bear of a man.
Therapist: What else? Look harder. (nudges him) Deeper.
Gaston goes somewhere he hasn’t gone in years.
Gaston: Daddy’s little mistake.
Therapist: Yes. Tell me more.
Gaston: I was never good enough for him. No matter how handsome. How strong. How brave. I killed five boars the summer I turned four and not even a second glance.
Therapist: And your mother?
Gaston: Mother adored me. I could do no wrong. I was her golden boy. She kissed my feet every night before bed. Every little toe.
Therapist: That must’ve been confusing.
Gaston: How so?
Therapist: To be both loved and loathed in the same home.
Gaston: Made me the man I am today.
Therapist: And what man is that?
Gaston: Strong. Hairy (smiles) in all the right places.
Therapist: But underneath all that chest hair, what’s there?
Gaston: (takes it in) A broken heart.
Therapist: We’re making progress, Gaston.
Gaston looks around.
Gaston: Don’t tell anyone.
Therapist: Tell them what.
Gaston: That I feel feelings.
Therapist: I would never dare.
Gaston: Cause I’m scary?
Gaston: Cause you’re scared.
Do you know
what no one tells you
about being admired?
You have to keep
earning it.
Every room
expects
the same entrance.
The same smile.
The same certainty.
They called me
the strongest.
Until someone
stronger.
The handsomest.
Until beauty
changed.
The hero.
Until the story
needed one.
It never occurred
to anyone
to ask
whether
I was tired.
Applause
is a peculiar thing.
It echoes
long after
the room
has fallen silent.
Eventually,
you stop asking
whether
they love you.
You only wonder
whether
they’re still
looking.
Then she arrived.
She looked
past
the story.
Past
the legend.
Past
the pedestal.
For the first time,
I wondered
what remained
once I stepped down.
Tell me—
if no one
is watching...
who exactly
am I
supposed
to become?
Perhaps
pedestals
were never built
for living people.
Only
for statues.
One like. One comment. One restack. That’s all it takes to start something.
Kasu (small wounds) and The In Between
QUEEN OF HEARTS
Kasu (small wounds) and The In Between
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I’m Mila. A mother of two. A Creative Director by a day, a writer of plays, poetry, films and fiction every spare moment I can find. My dream at this not so young age is to make writing and teaching of writing not just my creative life but my working life. Every sub and paid sub helps me get there.
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