It’s weird to read this. I wrote this initially in about 2003. This is going to get published some day… probably. It occurred to me today out of the blue sky, if things keep going how they are going it may be sooner rather than later.  In whatever case, it amused me to read this. I miss writing like this, I’ll tell you that.

Chapter 3

Obi Wan Kenobi PhD

Age 17

The Situation

I was living with my boyfriend, an intensely dark pretty boy I’ll call Darth Vader. He was a Scorpio with a huge black motorcycle and a complete Vader costume, spare no expense. Vader was off the chart good looking. He was classic tall, dark and handsome, looking just like Tom Selleck back when his look was flavor of the month.

I thought we were doing well but I may have been wrong about that considering how naïve I was. In whatever case, we’d lived together some months when one night tragedy struck and our lives were thrown into pure crisis.

Trying to cope with the brutal aftermath, Vader went to see a psychiatrist. I stood by until one day the doctor asked to meet me. He said he wanted to talk to his seventeen-year-old girlfriend.

“Why?” I asked. I’d never seen a psychiatrist before.

“I don’t know. But he says he wants to talk to you. He’s worried about your age.”

Vader was twenty-seven.

“You told him how old I am?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. And he wants to see me?  Why?”

“He didn’t say. I guess he wants to talk to you about me. It’s up to you. Go if you want. But if not I’ll have to call him and cancel the appointment.  He wants to see you alone. You’re on for Thursday at one and sorry, Elsa.  He’s clear downtown.  I have to work so I won’t be able to take you.”

“I can get there.”

I didn’t have a car so I made the two-hour trip on three buses, arriving at the office exhausted and settling in for a forty-minute wait. I hadn’t slept through the night in several weeks because every shred of Vader’s life had become intense and acute and mine went right along with his. I thought this had better be good because I could’ve easily lain down on the couch in the waiting room and slept for three days. I was disoriented from lack of sleep and pretty much floating in and out of consciousness.

Time passed, and the doctor popped his head into the waiting room and called for me. Uh oh. Show time. I walked into his office, nervously…