15
Two days later, Greta received an email from Om:
Greta,
Please transcribe the attached file—your last.
Meet me at my office today @ 5 pm sharp.
“Oh well,” Greta said as she opened a new document. She’d been repeating that a lot lately and remembered chanting it to herself as a child. Her first and only mantra. “Oh well, oh well, oh well.”
OM:?Can you state your initials, please?
FEW:?FEW.
OM:?You okay? You seem frazzled.
FEW:?I realize that affairs are unavoidably messy, but I’ve been dealing with an alarming amount of jealousy and paranoia. Like, really alarming.
OM:?Tell me about the paranoia.
FEW:?It’s a lot to summarize, but here’s a small example: Luke and I own a carriage house that we Airbnb. It’s in our yard, basically. I manage the account and always have. Luke’s not really involved.
“Uh-oh,” Greta said.
FEW:?So, I’m trying to get the place rented while we’re in Ecuador, because it’ll be good to have someone on the property. Luke’s worried that our house is being staked out—
OM:?Ecuador?
FEW:?Yeah, we’re going to Ecuador for our anniversary. We’ll be there two weeks.
“Don’t remind me,” Greta said.
FEW:?Yesterday morning I get a message from a guy on Airbnb, asking if it’s available. I write back and say yes, even though it’s obvious—it’s right there on the calendar, there’s no need to ask. He writes back, “What about you? Are you available?” I say, “Sure, I can be there to let you in at 10:00 on Sunday. After that, my husband and I won’t be at the property, but we’re always reachable by text.” He says, “What about dinner?” I explain that meals aren’t included, that it’s not a hotel, that there’s a long list of restaurants in the manual. I figure the guy is older, maybe, and new to Airbnb. He says, “Yes, I understand meals are not included, but what about you—are you included?”
“Fuck me,” Greta said.
FEW:?So, now I’m wondering who this person is. “Who are you?” I ask. He says, “My name is Javier, and I’m an actor. I’d love to take you to dinner.” I say, “Why? Based on what?” And he says, “Your profile pic, of course. You look like a lot of fun.” I’m a little freaked out at this point, but the guy doesn’t have my exact address. Mainly, I’m just irritated, because I’m going to have to report him to Airbnb, and I don’t have time for this. “What makes you think I’d have dinner with you?” I ask. He says, “Because I’m famous? Perhaps you recognize me?” So, I look at his profile pic. I realize the picture is probably fake, because the guy is extremely good-looking and dressed up in a suit. So, I’m thinking it’s either some twelve-year-old fucking with me, or someone having a mental health crisis—
OM:?Or Keith?
FEW:?Well, when I told Rebekah about it last night, she asked me if the guy looked familiar, and I said no. She asked me to describe him, and I told her he was conventionally handsome. She asked me if I felt a little tempted, assuming the guy was a real person, and I said no, because he seemed stupid, and anyway, I’m married, and I’ve never cared about celebrities. Then Rebekah laughed. “It was me,” she said. “I was fucking with you.”
OM:?What?
“Yup,” Greta said.
OM:?I’m not sure I understand. What was she trying to prove?
FEW:?How out of touch I am. Apparently, I’m the crazy one, because I have no idea who Javier Bardem is.
OM:?Don’t you?
FEW:?He’s a Spanish actor.
OM:?I know.
FEW:?Anyway, she accused me of suffering from a form of “terminal uniqueness,” as she called it. According to her, my ignorance of popular culture is willful. I’ve never learned the names of celebrities because I’m trying to be unique, to set myself apart from others. Not just apart, but above. She says my persona depends on this, and is constructed around being unconcerned with or unaware of the things most people are obsessed about, because I have a need to feel superior and above it all.
OM:?So, you’re a snob, basically.
“Yeah,” Greta said.
OM:?When people try to diagnose you, eight times out of ten they’re diagnosing themselves. “Terminal uniqueness” is a term used in twelve-step programs. It’s the belief that what you’ve experienced is utterly unlike anything anyone else has experienced, which makes you an exception to the rule, or exempt from the usual consequences. It can be dangerous. People die of terminal uniqueness all the time. Is she an addict?
FEW:?She used to be a pharm tech—maybe she’s taking pills? Her mother killed herself thirty years ago. Rebekah has wanted to follow her ever since. I’m concerned she’s making plans.
OM:?Has she attempted before?
FEW:?Yes, but it’s been a while. She told me she made suicide pacts with four different people, “just to cover her bases.”
OM:?So, if she goes first, five people will die?
FEW:?She was kidding—I think. Honestly, I don’t think she’s ever had four friends. Anyway, this thing about terminal uniqueness was just a cover-up. She was trying to bait me, obviously, even though what she did would only work on a child, and she was also trying to get back at me for calling her a misogynist, and for the extremely tense dinner we had at my house with Luke, where I drank too much and became aggressive.
OM:?Let’s talk about that.
FEW:?[PAUSE] I don’t feel like it right now.
OM:?It sounds to me like she’s probably upset about your trip to Ecuador, and upset in general, because she’s having an affair with an unavailable woman. She certainly sounds like an addict. With mommy issues.
FEW:?Jesus, Om. I hope that’s not a phrase you use regularly.
OM:?I’d like to discourage you from becoming overly focused on her behavior. It’s very easy to fall into the habit of keeping the focus on her misconduct rather than yours, and to blame her for your unhappiness, because she’s acting out her emotions. She’s made herself an easy target. The more productive thing would be to look at your own part in this, or why you’ve manifested this person in your life, because she’s here for a reason. Your affair with her coincided perfectly with Keith’s release from prison and with your desire to become embodied. One experience gave you pain and trauma, and, until recently, the other has been healing and pleasurable. If your relationship with her continues, there’s a risk of becoming retraumatized, but you don’t seem afraid to take emotional risks. I would proceed with caution, though, because she seems slightly… unhinged.
“Maybe I need psychologie,” Greta said.
FEW:?I’ve never felt such a range of conflicting emotions. On any given day we spend together, I feel lust, disgust, pity, joy, gratitude, and despair.
OM:?In that order?
FEW:?All at once. The highs and lows are extreme. It feels very love/hate.
OM:?I don’t believe in love/hate relationships. If it feels love/hate, then it’s not love. It’s probably not hate, either.
FEW:?What is it?
OM:?Fear.
FEW:?I’m not afraid of her.
OM:?You fear engulfment. She fears abandonment. It’s not love/hate so much as push/pull, and it’s very hard to stop once the cycle starts.