My last therapist was perhaps ten years older than me and a woman, and yet I as a younger man found her to be my best friend. Well, I'm not your typical man anyways - am only biologically. No, I don't have some kind of disorder, it's just that I have more things in common with women in terms of sensitivities and interests. So she could totally be my best friend. Not a girlfriend (I did not feel that way about her) but a girl friend, and a very good one. Like the kind you can call on weekends when you are bored or alone or sad and you could talk, just talk, for hours.

Funny thing is, I started to think of her as my best friend only after she said, in passing, "I am not your best friend, I'm your therapist." But we had stuff in common. I always found psychology interesting and so that was one. But also our personalities, our view of things, it was quite similar. And as therapy went on, I ended up becoming more and more like her, as well.

When we separated (she eventually moved to another city), it was very tough. You see, though more outspoken online, I am very shy and private person and have heck of a time opening up to people. She had known me for several years and there were no secrets between us (at least from my perspective, given that I knew barely anything about her). I still find it difficult without her. She used to encourage me to join groups, to make friends, and I would tell her, But who can be as good as you?!

In early years of college, when I was seeing her, I felt I did not fit anywhere. With guys or girls. Everybody had their own thing going on, their own friends, their own goals, they were always on the move, always competing, there was jealousy, hostility, there were all these kinds of strong emotions that my therapist, on the other hand, did not seem to have. Unlike people in college, she was also stable. She could be counted on, she was always there, always interested to hear what I had to say. She shared my sensitivity but also did not have a life outside the hour (in other words, I was not made to be aware of such life). She shared my academic interests and we could have good discussions about all kinds of things. Sometimes it felt like I was talking to a better and healthier version of myself.

Years later I still have not recovered from losing her. I keep telling myself, "She was not real!" That she, in reality, is somebody different. That I have fallen in love with the kind of therapy persona she was projecting. That in her real life she too would get jealous and feel hostile and be competitive and ignore you sometimes and have her own things going and not be reliable and so forth. But the experience was addictive. I can't stop comparing people I meet, to her. Sometimes I get so frustrated I think, "Real people suck!" Why? Cause the people I like they don't like me, cause people they don't understand me. Half the time they're not even trying to. The other half they don't have the knowledge to understand me (or anybody else). Nor are they under ethical obligation to keep what I tell them confidential. Nor are they legally committed to work on this relationship with me.

I just wish she hadn't been so similar to me or so friendly or so good at doing what she did. Even if all that was artificial at some level, that it was not a real life relationship. I guess it's like taking artificial sweetener for so long, real sugar in comparison barely tastes sweet at all.