Nurse

She saw in me the pains of growing up, the unflinching desire to suffer the right kind of pain, the stupidity to not see the futility of dwelling. On that night, in the office where she gave me a psychiatric evaluation, she told me I was a clever idiot. Within a few minutes of conversation, in which I invoked all manners of folk philosophy and literature having not yet pursued a serious practice of reading, I learned about her childhood (immigrated from Russia), heard of her love troubles (had a divorce with the love of her life), convinced her to hand me my phone (confiscated upon my confinement in the ward). It was then that I saw the other Catherine, the one that I was heartbroken over, had changed her profile picture and blocked me.