And now, for the poll of the day!!!

Don't you hate generalizational comments? No? I don't hate them either, as a matter of fact, I LOVE THEM, all because they are sooo true. Which of the following generalizational comments is the truest of them all?

It is a universal knowledge that while women are in the same public bathroom with you, they are officially your friends...A

Russians need the following to survive: Food, water, reproduction, and Nokia cell phones...B

All men are bastards...C

To punish men, God made them love women. He's just bitter with gay men because they found a loophole around the system (not mine) ...D

Virtually, all fanfiction.net readers and writers are geeks with no life (except me and Writeress, of course) ...E

YOU'RE the geek, bitch!! ...F

Now, just so you don't hate me, these are supposed to make you laugh..GEEKS!!!! lol just kidding, I love you all! Enjoy the story. Well, here goes...





Chapter 4

Dr. Bening, a renowned psychologist, flipped through her notebook, searching for something, anything that could bring her closer to her destination, whatever such was. It's been a long time since she'd had an intelligible conversation with her client, considering that he had canceled his last eight appointments. It was a pleasant surprise for her, or perhaps vice versa, when he appeared at her office unannounced.

"Arnold," she said, crossing her long legs, wiggling her foot, making the gray shoe dance upon it, "I almost don't know what to say. How about this time, you do the talking."

"And what would you like me to say, Doc?"

"Why all of a sudden you show up at my office without making an appointment, why you demand to be let in, that I miss my lunch break?"

"Because I just had to see something beautiful today," Arnold smiled, "and I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out on a date."

Dr. Bening grinned, clicking her pen, "I'm charmed," she said, "but not convinced."

"Not convinced?"

"Nor interested," she remarked, looking down at her notes, "you didn't come just because of that."

"Not interested?" Arnold continued, "then how do you account for the fact that you did miss your lunch break all for the little old me?"

"Not because I want to date you, Arnold, but because I want to understand you," she said, "and I think you came here on this particular day because you want to be understood."

"You always see some sort of thinking behind things, like people don't just partake in certain, random impulses," he smiled, "I like that about you only to a certain extent."

"I hope I have not yet made that extent," she smiled, "because I like you a lot, Arnold, and I want to help both, professionally and personally."

"I'm more interested in personal help right now, Dr. Bening," Arnold replied, "the more personal the better."

"I wouldn't take that from just anyone. Maybe you're one of those people who hide behind the things they say. It's a little cowardly, don't you think?"

"Cowardly?" Arnold questioned, looking down with a sly smile; "do you prefer that I say nothing at all?"

"I prefer that you say something, I prefer that your words include truth and meaning. So far, I haven't gotten a bit out of you, an I think it's wrong of you to expect me to help you if you don't release what you know you want to release."

"I can release myself to a homeless man in the park," Arnold said, "if that's all your job consists of, getting people to release."

"My job consists of getting people to understand what it is that they release, but I need a little help from these people. Arnold, you puzzle me, and I want to solve that puzzle. Maybe that's why I'm here right now instead of out to lunch with associates."

"Stop saying that," he said, almost angrily, "as if you don't flatter all of your clients like that, as if you don't treat us all the same."

"Treat you the same, huh?" she asked cynically, placing her notebook on the table, and gathering her purse, "You want me to treat differently from them? Okay then!" She leveled to her feet and began to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked in confusion.

"I'm going to lunch. I've got an appointment in an hour, so I wish you would be gone by the time I return."

Arnold stared at her blankly as she continued out, he had to stop her, "I met somebody today."

She stopped, it worked. Dr. Bening turned and faced him, "A woman?"

"No," he said, "not like that. I met a man. I thought it was a kind of funny story."

She paused her quick movement, looking intently into Arnold's eyes, saying nothing.

"I was in this diner, I don't know why I was there, actually, it was a kind of random thing. But, anyway, I was there, minding my own business when, suddenly, out of nowhere, this guy turns and says something. I don't ever remember what it was," he paused, "but the way he said it made me feel strange. He had this smile on his face, as if he was my friend. I'm not really used to that sort of thing, most people aren't my friends, you see."

Dr. Bening nodded, slowly moving to her chair.

"Yes, well, we talked (just for a minute) and then he smiled again and he said he wanted to see me again. He said he wanted me to come have dinner with him and his girlfriend."

"And what did you say?" Dr. Bening asked.

"What could I have said? I said yes."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Strange," Arnold sighed, "that's the significance of this story. The man, I'm almost sure I don't know him. It's just that he seemed so familiar. As if I knew him in a past life or something. Do you believe in reincarnation, Dr. Bening?"

"I think what matters is what you believe."

"Of course," Arnold smiled, "never a prose response. What do I believe? I don't even know. I mean, yesterday, my answer would have been a no, but today, I'm not so sure. Where have I seen him before if not in a past life?"

Dr. Bening leaned her head for a moment and then looked up again, "Maybe it's not him as a person, maybe it's him as an essence?"

"An essence?" Arnold questioned.

"Maybe, once in your life you have known someone who was a little bit like that, maybe a lot."

Arnold scratched his head and looked down, "Maybe. But tell me then, Dr. Bening, why don't I remember any of it?"

She clicked her pen again an sighed, uncrossing her legs, "Maybe because you don't want to."



Lila opened the door, perplexed as to who should be visiting her at this time. Jonathan was at work, and she was not expecting company. For quite a while now the couple lived in solitude, not showing their face anywhere, not sharing the details of their perfect personal life as they had before. Who could it be, then? She hoped it was not Jonathan, home early from work. Then again, it wouldn't be him, would it? He hadn't come home early for the past two weeks, and it was silly to suppose that it was he now.

The moment she opened the door, she shut it almost simultaneously. For there, right outside, stood Gerald, a grave expression on his face.

"Open, Lila," he said through the thick concrete, his words bouncing off of her ears, "open the door, don't be stupid."

"You aren't supposed to be here," she weakly replied, "please leave."

"We need to talk," he said.

"We've talked enough," she said, "please go, don't make me call security."

"You would call security on me?" Gerald said, "after all we've been through?"

"We've been through nothing!" she exclaimed, feeling tears rush into the bottoms of her eyes.

"We've been through everything, please open the door!" he demanded.

She pressed her back against it, as if her own weight supplied the strength of the object; she began sobbing.

"Lila!" he screamed, she stayed silent, "Lila!" he ejaculated again. She did not respond.

In frustration, Gerald began banging his fists against the door, trying to pry it open, all the while screaming her name. She closed her eyes, his cries becoming distant and dull, blurred out of her subconscious, as her mind began to dance.

"Lila, I love you!" he screamed but she remained still, she had made her decision, she had chosen Jonathan and his coldness, and she was going to abide to it. Gerald was not a part of her decision. But he continued screaming, and it tore her up from within.

"Lila! Why can't you just open the door? Why can't you understand? I'm nothing without you! Lila!"

But she did not respond, she stood still, her face stoical, meager tears escaping her frozen eyes. Her hands began to shake.

"I'll stay here all my life if I have to, I won't leave until you come out and talk to me!"

She closed her eyes and reopened them, immediately afterward walking to her phone and dialing a number.

"Hello, front desk security, please," she softly chanted into the phone.



Helga felt enthralled as she lay in his arms, tucked gently around her body, memorizing the night. The touch of his lips, the feel of his skin pressed tightly against her, his face meddling with the inclination of her neck as he worked his way inside of her. Their bodies felt like a combined equation, molded to absolute perfection. She smiled, looking up at the ceiling that looked gray, now that the fresh rays of the new day began pouring into the room through the creaks of the drawn curtain. Their scents mingled in the atmosphere, and Helga inhaled it like perfume. She had so much, just so very much it almost made her feel scared that it was all a dream. She wanted to pinch herself, to be certain, while simultaneously fearing that it truly was a deep hibernation, for, if it was, she never wished to awake.

Her smile was bright as she traced the fine lines of his slumbering visage, gently pressing her lips against his sleeping eyelashes. Noah's lips curved upwards in sweet ecstasy and Helga felt utter enthrallment. At that moment, watching her loved man asleep, dreaming pleasant dreams, as he always had, she suddenly realized that she was the happiest woman in the world. Quickly, she rushed the window and undid the tapestry, allowing white light to flow through, overpowering her face for a moment. The room lit up in a natural beige tint, and her skin glowed like white porcelain, as if she were an angel. Helga's blue eyes opened wide, as she skipped across the room, landing back on the white sheets of the bed, drawing the light around her like a blanket. Her cheeks became flushed, and she draped Noah's sleeping, pale hand with her own, feeling its warmth radiating from within. She closed her eyes and threw her head in the air, enjoying the savored feeling of goodness the moment produced. At that moment he awoke.

She smiled and he blushed, covering his face for a moment from the impending army of illumination "What's going on?" he asked sweetly, "You weren't drawing on my face with your lipstick again like you did last time I overslept, are you?"

"And ruin my lipstick?" she smiled, "I don't think so."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looking at Helga in the aloof way she so loved, "I don't know what it is this morning, but you look more beautiful than I had ever seen you before in my life."

Helga was not wearing makeup, her hair was disheveled, and she wore but white silk pajamas that she brought with her from England. More to the point, she was never a beautiful woman to begin with, and no man besides Noah had ever remarked on her handsomeness. She certainly did not find herself beautiful. But when he said it, she felt her spirits rise even higher. It was extraordinary.

"If someone told me I was beautiful every morning for the rest of my life," she mused with a smile, "I think I would be a very happy woman."

"Then consider yourself there," he smiled, pressing his lips against hers, their tongues massaging against one another.

"Noah," she smiled, burying her face in his chest, "I love you."

His arms went around her yet again. A few days ago, Noah told her the truth about his feelings but no true response followed. This was the first time she, herself, told him the three little words.