“Come on in,” said the Doctor. Vincent walked into the room, brushing his wavy brown hair back and closed the door quickly behind him.
“Hello Doctor Kowalski,” he said as he stood motionless for a moment.
“Come on in. Have a seat. It’s Vincent right?”
“Yes it is sir. My name is Vincent Miller,” he said, approaching the doctor’s table, slowly stretching his hand out towards him.
“You have a hell of a handshake.” The doctor exclaimed smiling. “Please sit down. It is such a treat to meet you; the son of a great writer.”
“Yes, yes” Vincent replied as he sat down and cleared his throat. “My father is of course Joseph Miller.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him. I have seen your mother a couple of times and she’s told me a whole lot about you.”
“She speaks very fondly of you,” said Vincent.
“She’s very kind,” said the doctor. “I’m glad that you decided to meet me.”
“Well, sure,” said Vincent and added hesitantly, “I must say, I don’t know where to go from here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s been on my case to come see you for a while. Now that I’m here, I don’t know what comes next.”
The doctor let out a laugh as he leaned back in his leather chair behind his desk. He was a fat man with lovable cheeks that revealed many intriguing wrinkles whenever he smiled or laughed from his gut. “You’re here so we can get to know each other.”
“That’s fair,” Vincent replied.
“I want you to tell me about yourself.”
“How many ears are in on this?”
“I mean, is it just us?”
“Well of course,” said the Doctor as he smiled. “What you say will stay here.”
“So it’s just us and the walls.”
“And of course my desk,” said the Doctor jokingly.
“I’m not sure if desks hear anything, but I’m certain that walls do.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Desks are soft and moody. They’re good for writing on,” said Vincent looking directly at the Doctor’s wooden table. “Words and emotions cling onto the walls. That’s how every room tells a story.”
“That’s actually very interesting. Do you really believe it though?”
“To be honest, I just made it up.”
“Clever,” said the Doctor. “Would you like to sit by the window?”
“Sure,” said Vincent.
“It’s a beautiful day,” said the Doctor as he seated himself in a leather sofa, ever so casually stretching his legs out. Vincent sat down across from him, while observing constantly the trees and the streets below. “Your mother gave me one of your stories to read. You write very articulately and you have so many comedic insights. How long have you been writing?”
“Since I was a kid,” Vincent replied.
“Personally, I think your story was brilliant.”
“My mother gave it to you to read?”
“That’s right,” said the Doctor. “She said you’re a fine young writer. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, is what I told her.”
“I guess so,” said Vincent. “Thank you Doctor.”
“I’m guessing from your story that you smoke.”
“Yes, and I’m guessing that my mother told you all about my habits long before she gave you the story.”
“That’s true. Why do I feel that you’re offended by this?”
“I’m not offended at all. I just feel that she has told you a lot of what she knows and all about who I am. As a result, we can skip a whole lot of introductory talk. I know my mother.”
“I know that you do,” said the Doctor. “Your mother has lots of love.”
“Yes, yes she does.”
“So there’s absolutely nothing wrong at all?”
“There probably is. There always is, isn’t there?”
“Can I ask you something Vincent?”
“Of course Doctor,” he replied.
“Will you answer me truthfully?”
“Of course I will.”
“How often do you make things up?”
“That all depends on how often I feel the need to be somewhere else.”
“Where would you want to be?”
“I don’t know. I mean, there are a lot of places I haven’t been.”
“So you plan on traveling.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing some places.”
“Who would you take with you on your travels?”
“Why would I take anyone?”
“Oh I’m just guessing,” said the Doctor as he cleared his throat and continued, “I figured you to have a girlfriend if not a bunch of them.”
“Why would I take my girlfriend?”
“I don’t know,” said the Doctor and added quickly, “Lots of people travel with their girlfriends or lovers.”
“Lots of people travel alone as well,” Vincent replied instantly.
“I suppose you’re right. But isn’t it more fun to be with your girlfriend when you’re traveling the world?”
“Fun,” said Vincent. “It is fun, there’s no doubt about it. It’s great to have that fun as company while you’re flying all across the world, but you can’t have all the other stuff.”
“What other stuff?”
“When you want to fly all around, every day of the week will quickly seem the same even though your mobile world keeps changing from the inside out. Traveling turns foggy all the meaning and depth within a relationship, but there always is that fun. Wherever you go, you can find that fun and it won’t mean a thing.”
“Do you feel the need to be somewhere else right now?”
“Perhaps,” Vincent replied.
“How often do you feel like that at home?”
“I don’t know, every once in a while, everyone wants to get away.”
“Have you been up north?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I would love to see it for myself.”
“It’s the perfect place to take your girlfriend. There’s a lot of space and a lot of quiet for having fun!”
Vincent laughed as he turned his look to the window for a moment and stretched his arms upwards and behind his head. He leaned back comfortably and let out a sigh. “I have yet to meet a girl who isn’t a fan of city life.”
“Ah, you’re only nineteen my friend! Tell me, what’s her name?”
“Your girlfriend’s name,” said the Doctor. “What is her name Vincent?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend doctor. I’ve had a few, one not very long ago.”
“What are you going to tell me; that you’ve lost faith in it all?”
“That’s exactly what I was going to say.”
“Well, like I said before, you’re only nineteen.”
“I’m not a branch hopper Doctor Kowalski.”
“That’s not what I think of you Vincent, but please continue. What do you mean?”
“I’m not the type who chases girls. I don’t jump from emotion to emotion whenever I get tired. I’ve come to realize that love lives and dies much like all else. All that stuff spoken about in poems and romantic verses of the past has long been a fantasy. It was a fantasy then and it’s a fantasy now; a fantasy that fulfills a great need. There’s no way around it.”
“Don’t you think romance is beautiful?”
“Sure I do,” replied Vincent. “I’m probably a romantic at heart.”
“Yes, I believe you are.”
“It’s funny,” said Vincent, his eyes falling still into a blurry gaze. “There was this girl; a friend of a friend. I’ve seen her plenty of times, but I’ve never really spoken with her. I’ve never stumbled upon what it is about her that nests her within my thoughts, all day long. Something in her smile, something about her eyes and the way she moves, attracts my brain from so far away. My brain, Doctor Kowalski…For the first time it’s the other way around.”
“I know what you mean. Usually it’s the heart that injects the mind with love.”
“My heart is satisfied with everything.”
“Is that true?”
“I’m quite sure.”
“Carelessness isn’t satisfaction.”
“I’m not careless,” Vincent exclaimed. “I just rather not pursue certain emotions anymore. Am I not allowed to declare this in my actions, or my words? What if, at any point in time I feel to have seen enough of the same scene? What if I’ve sincerely reached the conclusion that it’s not for me?”
“That isn’t the most important decision to be made,” said Doctor Kowalski. “A much better question to ask is, ‘What do you want?’ What drives you Vincent? Once you realize what that is, it becomes much easier to focus on acquiring all the necessary items and luxuries that will help you reach what you want in the long run.”
“You’re right,” said Vincent. “Who was your favorite character?”
“In your story?” said the Doctor, smiling as he started to think. “If I were to choose one, I’d say, the grandmother.”
“Wow,” said Vincent and added with a laugh, “Nobody likes the grandmother, you wouldn’t either Doctor, if you got to meet her.”
“Are all of your characters based on people that you know?”
“Pretty much all of them,” Vincent replied.
“So you don’t just make everything up as you go along.”
“No, I’m not able to do so because everything I write has already been made up.”
“So you don’t believe in self control?”
“No Doctor, I’m all about control. I control my emotions. That’s what I’ve been saying. I control them and I try to hold my words.”
“So that’s your way around it! I guess you’re right Vincent. Personally I still think you should approach the girl you keep thinking about.”
“Is that so?” said Vincent.
“I think you’re better off that way.”
“Maybe I will.”
“You should,” said the Doctor excitedly. “Like I said before, you’re only nineteen!”
“I should be going now,” said Vincent after having looked at his watch over and over again.
“You know, you’re my last session today. How about some coffee? If you want you can stay a little longer to talk.”
“Thanks a lot Doctor,” said Vincent, as he stood up slowly and pressed his index finger to the side of his head and added, “In my mind, I already stepped out the door.”
“Well then, bon voyage Vincent!” he shouted with a laugh from his gut as he shook his hand. “You’ve got a hell of a handshake kid.”
“Your handshake is never really important when you’re ‘the son of a great writer,’” said Vincent as he walked over to the door.
“Oh Vincent, before you go,” said the Doctor. “How come your story doesn’t have a title?”
Vincent shrugged his shoulders, threw up his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly to the right. “I don’t know Doctor, but I’ll make something up.”