Forgotten Memories- The Shrink

"Interesting outlook on life you have there. Where did you come across it? Some book?" asked the shrink.

“Where do you think?” I replied.

“I think it's a coping mechanism that you developed after you had your breakup; after you were left to face your feelings all over again. And I know it must’ve been difficult. You must’ve felt the pain surging through your heart all over again, helpless to do anything about it. And at that moment you wanted to invent a way of hanging on to something that didn’t happen for you in real life. And the writer in you imprisoned everything you wanted to have so badly inside stories, adding some key memories to make it look authentic.”

I noticed the gleam in the corner of his eye as he finished that sentence. Damn, he's good. Definitely living up to his reputation. He thinks he has me all figured out. I’ll feed him some more of my ideas. Let’s see how far he gets and then we’ll see who’s playing whom- I thought to myself.

“Hmm... Interesting. Maybe you are right. But what do you think of it?”

“Of your outlook?” said the shrink with a quizzical look on his face. He couldn’t put his finger on out what was going on in that shrewd little head of mine.

“Yes, do you think it makes sense? Do you think that we should only live the life we are given and not imagine stories of what could have been? And aren’t we all stories waiting to be heard? I believe that we are the story we write, the story we dream and the story we live in. And we’ll always be looking for that one special someone with whom we will want to share our story. We’ll end up making tiny but important sacrifices so that their stories turn out to be better than ours. Some people believe that is all that matters. Maybe it is. But the world around us is fed by and lives on the stories you tell. People judge us based on the stories we feed them, even if they are lies.”

“I think everyone’s is entitled to have their own outlook on life. I really like yours though. It’s... interesting.”

“Ha-ha. You’re treading cautiously. So if I may ask, what's your outlook on life?”

This will be a good challenge. He knows that I’m onto him. What is he playing at?-thought the shrink.

Deciding to not let his face betray his real intentions, he continued, “You really want to waste your hard earned money on hearing my outlook?”

“Why not? I have always liked listening to views that differed from mine.”

I stood up from my recliner seat and started pacing around the shrink’s hotel suite. Something just didn’t add up here. His sitting pose looks so familiar. Fingers of either hand joined at the ends and pressed against his lips while constantly staring at me. Where have I seen it before? Some movie? Aah, yes. It's from Sherlock, the Benedict Cumberbatch pose when he talks to clients and is in deep thought. I quickly need to find a spot that is broken off from his line of sight. There doesn’t seem to be any cameras in the room. Maybe he’ll blabber something out. I’d best listen.

“I think we are more than stories. We are the books we read, the films we watch, the music we listen to, the people we meet, the dreams we have and the conversations we engage in. We are what we take from these. We are a collective of every experience we have had in our life.” said the shrink moving his head around to face me as I kept pacing around the room.

This is getting stranger. He really is telling me what I built my outlook around. How is he doing all this? I need answers. And fast.

“What have you done? Have you been snooping around my stuff? I’ve never told any of that to anyone else. What you said is what I derived my outlook on life from.”

Damn, he's got me agitated. This might be exactly what he wants. But the suspense is killing me. I need to know.

“For your information, no I haven't been snooping around your stuff. I too believe that we are all stories in the end. I'm just trying to make my story a good one.”

He still didn't have me convinced. I found a spot behind a sofa that he couldn’t possibly see and spun my top there. I had been carrying it around ever since I saw Inception.

“This is not real. You're kidding right? What is this? A conspiracy? Huh? You've got cameras all over the place to catch me breaking down? Losing my mind? Guess what smart ass. I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction.”

“Please take a seat. There is no need to get agitated. This is not a conspiracy, Cobb. There's no one here except you & me,” said the shrink while trying to calm me down from the agitated state I was in.

The top was still spinning. I’m dreaming! That’s how he knows what’s in my head. He is the projection of my subconscious. I paused for a while to make sure I was dreaming.

“No. You’re wrong. There's just me here.”, I replied with a grin on my face.

“What? Just you? What are you talking about?”

“You gave yourself away old man. You showed me too much of myself. You took it too far. You told me the exact words I had cooked up in my mind. You're me. Or rather you’re a projection of my subconscious. And I'm dreaming. You nearly got me there though. But it's time for me to get up now. Thank you doctor. I will keep you locked deeper in the next time around. And I will be the one summoning you when I want to face my feelings. Not the other way around. Goodbye.”

He didn’t make an effort to stop me from leaving. He knew it’d have been futile. I walked out of the hotel room I was in into a long & empty hallway trying to find a way to escape the dream that I was stuck in.