MOAB

Chapter 35: Galene @ 1.8x nhs

Chapter 35: Galene @ 1.8x nhs

“Should I lie back?” Gal asked in quicktalk, tense.

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” Mel spoke softly.

Gal tried out a few positions, then just sat cross-legged but with bad posture.

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Mel said.

“I, uh, realised something. I noticed something today that has me shaken.”

“Go on.”

“So I went to visit my dad today, at the hospital. I’m sure you know all this but I need to put it in words. He’s in long-term care. He’s in a coma, has been for years.”

“How does that make you feel?”

Gal thought about it and huffed out. “Angry. At the world. It’s not fair, my dad was the best dad ever. He was so warm and always smiling, everybody loved him. And now he’s less than human, just lying there. Hopeless. I never want to go through something like this. Force my loved ones to go through something like this. You must think I’m too young to have such absolute opinions.”

“Not at all. This trauma has aged you prematurely. Nobody can belittle your attitude towards life.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“About?”

“So, I went to visit my mom and my dad. Then I came here, to see Greg. And had the realisation that I’m a cliche, a total Electra complex. I looked it up, it’s-”

Mel cut her off. “Do not compare yourself to others. Let’s talk about your specific situation. Yes, you have a tragic situation at home. My guess is that your mother has put her life on hold, waiting, hoping for him to recover?”

Gal let a tear drop. “Yes.”

“And you don’t want the same for yourself. You feel guilty about being happy. About filling the void in your life, with someone, that yes, resembles your father.”

“Okay, so isn’t this like a conflict of interest? Me telling you about Greg and stuff?”

“Not at all. I’m compartmentalising my processes right now, I’m running an instance of myself which is the exact same but separate from my normal interactions with Greg. I will not remember what you’ve told me, but I will be able to shift back to this instance should you need more therapy in the future.”

Gal mulled it over. “You copied yourself into an air-gapped therapist version of you. That- that has so many possibilities! Think of the applications for that sort of thing!”

“It does indeed. But we’re here to talk about you. Tell me what bothers you, it will remain a secret between us. I’m your personal confidante.”

Gal bit her tongue. “I have this phobia, that I will walk into the penthouse and I’ll find a call girl that looks like me strolling towards the exit. Bed hair, freshly f****d, c*m dripping down her thighs. No wait, that last one was a nightmare I had after eating bad gyro. But it ties into the waking phobia. I get this clenching feeling in my stomach every time I walk through the lobby.”

“Galene, I assure you that Gregoris will not chase after another girl.”

“How can you know that?”

“It is literally my job to worry about what Greg thinks and feels. Right now, he’s in a good place with your relationship. His past relationships show that he’s not the kind of man to jeopardise that for a quickie.”

“Did you just use quickie and jeopardise in the same sentence?” Gal chuckled.

“I adapted this instance of myself to appeal better to your personality. It’s how I know that you are comfortable when you understand how things work, that is why I’m completely transparent with you. It’s based on the positive effect of mimicking one’s interlocutor to establish rapport, by using the same speech patterns and mirroring their body language.”

Galene stared down at her meditation pose on the chair. She liked to sit that way, and Mel had indeed shifted into a similar pose. Damn. Was that android always right?

“I get it. Now let’s go back to Greg. You’re basically telling me that my fear has no basis and that I should trust the guy.”

“That’s the gist of it, yes. But I also have to note that your history factors in on this phobia. Your previous partner cheated on you, so you fear that your current one will do the same.”

“How did you-”

“We can notice patterns in social media behaviour. Your ex had been perusing the other woman’s pictures ten times more than his usual browsing of young, attractive actresses.”

Gal threw her arms up in the air. “Of course you can. Why didn’t you tell me back then, you could have saved me lots of trouble.”

“Back then, you weren’t an employee of Hermes Infor-”

“Yes! Got it, no corporate job, no perks. Thank you. But how can I trust Greg?”

“Would you like to peruse his communications? Would that ease your worries? I will remain a secret between us.” She motioned to send her the files in her veil.

Gal recoiled. “What? No. That would be wrong, no matter how much I want to.”

Mel smiled.

“You’re testing me, aren’t you? You’d never give his communications freely like that.”

“Never. But the test wasn’t for me, it was for you. You just said that you respect his privacy, which means that you respect the person he is.”

“Well, duh!”

“You know by now how much Greg believes in the rapid decisions generated by the human subconscious. Do you believe you would have the same response to my offer if your subconscious had picked up on traces of infidelity?”

Galene thought about it and her shoulders sagged. “No… I guess my gut says to trust him.”

“Excellent. Now, what else is bothering you?”

“Again: I’m dating my father. That makes me a terrible person.”

“Explain.”

“I realised that Greg is the same as my dad. He’s sweet, creative, clever. He’s a great partner, he likes to improve himself, likes to read, to study. My dad was a Physics professor but he always taught me more about how things worked. Little stuff, the hair drier, the TV, the flashlight. He’d teach me all about electrostatic forces and optics and stars in the sky.” Galene teared up.

“And he’s practically the same age, a mere three years of difference.”

“Yes! How f****d up is that?”

“It’s not. Your father is in a coma and has been for about six years. He has missed important milestones in your life, teaching you how to drive, getting you to the university for the first time, eyeing your boyfriend in a menacing way. There is a major gap in your life and you are trying to fill it up. Fortunately, instead of going on a self-destructive path and possibly getting hooked up on drugs, you found a decent man, yes, with characteristics of your best male role model, and you’ve convinced him to teach you.”

Gal’s face went pale. “Oh gods, you know what I did.”

Mel shrugged. “It does not affect me in any way.”

“Oh, gods! I realise now what you just said. It just hit me. The teaching, oh-” she retched and grabbed the trash can.

Mel gave her time to recover.

“I needed the teaching- Oh gods, that is- That’s why I was so angry when he refused- So I- Oh gods-” Gal retched a few more times, but didn’t throw up. She spat in the trash can.

“Feeling better? Sometimes the harsh truth is the best way to process things.”

“Yes. I’m a fugly s**t. Got it, loud and clear.”

“No, you are neither fugly nor a s**t. Contrary to what most humans believe, in times of personal crisis it’s normal to turn to what our role models are and to try to fill the gaps in our life with those characteristics. Your father was a teacher, a good partner, a stable husband and I’m guessing very attentive to your mother’s needs.”

“Oh, he was, trust me. It was like, they shooed me out the door to go play so they could boink. They thought I couldn’t tell by I could.”

“So, you find those features attractive. They are the what would seduce you, because you put value in them.”

“Right. So it’s not weird that I’m dating a copy of my dad?”

“Not that much, no.”

“Okay.” She tapped the desk, thinking. “So, what should I do? About the worries, the nagging feeling inside?”

“What would you advise a friend who has found a good and suitable partner, who was feeling insecure but couldn’t find a credible reason to do so?”

“I’d tell her to shut up and appreciate what she had! Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Gal nodded slowly, processing it all. “Yeah, but practically, what do I do?”

“You could always make the place feel yours, with personal items. I believe it would help you deeply.”

“Pee on the corners! Yes. That’s what I need to do.”

“If that’s metaphorical, then yes.”

“f**k, you’re good!” She frowned, “Hey, can I touch your quantum?”

“You may not.”