Maybe You Should Talk to Someon - Lori Gottlieb Page 0,167

your shield down, but if you want the rewards of an intimate relationship, there’s no way around it.

Still, Rita called me every day to let me know that Myron hadn’t responded. “Radio silence,” she’d say into my voicemail, then add sarcastically, “He must still be absorbing.”

I urged her to stay connected to all the good in her life despite her anxiety around Myron, to not withdraw into hopelessness because something was painful, not to be like the person on a diet who messes up once and says, “Forget it! I’ll never lose weight,” and then binges for the rest of the week, making herself feel ten times worse. I told her to report to me on my voicemail what she was doing each day, and, dutifully, Rita would tell me that she had dinner with the hello-family, created the syllabus for her college class, took “the grandkids”—her honorary granddaughters—to the museum for an art lesson, filled orders from her website. But without fail, she’d end with a caustic crack about Myron.

Secretly, of course, I too was hoping that Myron would rise to the occasion and that he’d do so sooner rather than later. Rita had gone out on a limb by revealing herself to him, and I didn’t want the experience to confirm her deeply held belief that she was unlovable. As the days wore on, Rita got more antsy to hear from Myron—but so did I.

At our next session, I was relieved to hear that Rita and Myron had talked. And, indeed, he’d been taken aback by all that Rita had shared—and by the fact that she’d concealed so much. Who was this woman to whom he was drawn so strongly? Was this kind and caring person the same one who’d fled in fear while her husband hurt their children? Could this woman who doted on the hello-family kids be the same one who neglected her own? Was this funny, artistic, and whip-smart woman the same one who’d wiled away her days in a haze of depression? And if so, what did this mean? What effect might it have not just on Myron, but on his children and grandchildren? After all, he reasoned, whomever he dated would be woven into the fabric of his close-knit family.

During that week of “absorbing,” Myron confessed to Rita, he spoke to Myrna, his deceased wife, whose counsel he had always relied on. He still talked to her, and now, she was telling him not to be so judgmental—to be cautious but not closed-minded. After all, had she not been fortunate enough to have loving parents and a wonderful husband, who knows what she would have done under the circumstances? He also called his brother back east, and he said, “Have you told her about Dad?” By which he meant, Have you told her about Dad’s deep depression after Mom died? Have you told her that you were afraid of the same thing happening to you after Myrna died?

Finally, he’d phoned his best buddy from childhood, who listened intently to Myron’s story and then said, “My friend, all you do is talk about this woman. At our age, who doesn’t come with enough baggage to bring down an airplane? You think you’ve got nothing? You’ve got a dead wife you talk to every day and an aunt in the loony bin that nobody mentions. You’re a good catch, but c’mon. Who do you think you are, Prince Charming?”

But most important, Myron spoke to himself. His voice inside said, Take a risk. Maybe our pasts don’t define us but inform us. Maybe all she’s been through is exactly what makes her so interesting—and so caring now.

“Nobody’s ever called me caring before,” Rita said in my office, tearing up as she related the conversation with Myron. “I was always called selfish and demanding.”

“But you’re not like that with Myron,” I said.

Rita thought about that. “No,” she said slowly. “I’m not.”

Sitting with Rita, I was reminded that the heart is just as fragile at seventy as it is at seventeen. The vulnerability, the longing, the passion—they’re all there in full force. Falling in love never gets old. No matter how jaded you are, how much suffering love has caused you, a new love can’t help but make you feel hopeful and alive, like that very first time. Maybe this time it’s more grounded—you have more experience, you’re wiser, you know you have less time—but your heart still leaps when you hear your lover’s voice or see that