Hope Less

Posted on February 17, 2012

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After Hope finished unloading the burdens plaguing her mind for as long as she cared to think about, her therapist sat back in his chair and threw up his hands in disgust.

“I’ve never seen a bigger waste of human sperm!” He got up and left the office, slamming the door behind him. After a moment, she heard him let out an angry yell and pound on the door. He reentered, rubbing his right hand tenderly, his face a bright red. He sat down in his chair and composed himself. He folded his arms, took a deep breath and let it out a second later. Then he looked at Hope sternly.

“Of all the sperm to fertilize your mother’s egg, it had to be the one that would form you.”

Hope looked down at her lap and started crying. Her therapist continued on.

“Twenty-nine and never had a boyfriend. The last time you kissed a boy was eighth grade. And you attribute this grotesque waste of life to low self-esteem?!” He leaned forward, his face contorted in disgust and disbelief.

“Why didn’t your mother just have an abortion? I mean Lord Almighty. Or why did you listen to your ignorant friends who told you that you weren’t hopeless?! You should have just ignored them and offed yourself. Christ.”

Hope was crying the hardest she had ever cried. She could barely breathe. Her whole life had been a lie. Constantly being reassured that she would find love in somebody, that she would achieve her dreams of being a wife and mother, and eventually a grandmother, she had just started to believe that it might all become true. But now her therapist had pulled back the curtain hiding her dark reality. She would be thirty in six months, and where was her husband? Her kids? In her dreams. As they always had been. What man would want an inexperienced loser like her? Another inexperienced loser? But all the men are usually not so inexperienced, having resorted to hookers…She was hopeless.

“And it’s a damn shame,” her therapist went on, as if having read her thoughts. “You don’t look all that bad. You could have at least been a prostitute. Well, you still could. Maybe there is hope for you after all.”

Hope? How? By sleeping with numerous pigs? She could become a mother that way…Yes. Any man likes the idea of having sex without a condom. She could lie and say she was on the pill. Then she would have her baby. And she would be a mother and grandmother, just as she had wanted.

She stopped crying and stood, giving her therapist a confident smile.

“You’re right,” she said. “There is still hope.”

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