Mitchum and Me

"I saw her three times. Once I was wasted but I still recognized her beauty, you know? It was there, but, uh, I wasn't, you know?"

She nods. She doesn't look up to see my reaction or look into my eyes like she normally did in our past sessions. She scribbles on that notepad of hers while managing to ask, "Wasted?"

A simple word tangled in her tone made me frown. She quietly waits for my response by looking at her notepad, still unaware of my stares.

"Yeah." I nod but she does not see it. "I got wasted a couple of times during college."

"Would you like to tell me why you were wasted?"

I nod again, starting, "See, my parents were a bunch of rich fucks."