The Physical Therapist Attracted to Her Female Client

In this week’s story, a woman debates breaking up with her unemployed partner: 26, in a relationship, Maine

DAY ONE

7:45 a.m. Wake up to silence, the way I like it. Living here in southern Maine, with a beach down the street, hiking up the other side of the street, and beauty for miles and miles, you’d think I’d find peace. I went to college in New York and couldn’t wait to move back home. And yet, here I am, not nearly as happy as I thought I would be. It’s Saturday and I have nothing planned.

11 a.m. Jake, my boyfriend, takes the dog out for a walk. I’m relieved when he walks out the door. The dilemma I’m facing is that I think I need to break up with Jake. Other than our sex life, which is great, something feels wrong. Sometimes it feels like the only time I love him is when I’m fucking him. We’ve been together since college, so that’s almost eight years. But lately, I feel so unsettled. I can’t stand him when he talks, eats, watches TV, opens a beer. I’ve just had it.

2 p.m. I’m watching him watch TV. Is it that he’s more like a brother than a lover now? Maybe. We’ve known each other since high school but didn’t start dating until we both came to New York for college. His familiarity made me cling to him and vice versa. The first time we had sex, I was shocked how good it was. Technically, I was the “cooler one” when we were younger, but once we started fucking, everything shifted and I began worshiping him. When we moved back home and moved in together, something changed. I never talk about it with anyone, no therapy, nothing.

6 p.m. We decide to go to dinner in Portland because we’re sick of cooking, and there’s an Italian restaurant there that my cousin works at and she always tells us to come in. I text her and she saves us a table. I look at Jake as he walks toward the car. He’s still handsome, still has that messy charm. We both have very high sex drives, and he still makes me come. But that is all we have left in terms of connection. We drive to the restaurant, about a half hour away, without even talking.

9 p.m. He drinks three beers at dinner, so I drive home. At dinner, we mostly talked to my cousin. And when it was the two of us, we just made small talk about all the annoying tourists. I don’t think he has a clue I’m gearing up to leave him. He’s gotten so dense, so emotionally tuned out. And the beer drinking is a bit out of control … it’s my biggest issue. I don’t think he’s an alcoholic. I just think he’s getting progressively lazier, mildly depressed, and emotionally shut down.

11 p.m. We still fuck a lot, about three times a week. Tonight we have sex and it’s good. His dick is always so strong that it makes the fucking intense. Then we both fall asleep.

DAY TWO

7:20 a.m. Sunday. We have church later, not that either of us are religious — it’s a tradition with my family. Church, then lunch at my mom’s, then hang time at the beach. Other than the years I was at college, that’s how every Sunday goes. My family loves Jake, and I’ve never told them that I’m over it. The guilt around that is a whole other thing. It will break their heart to lose him. It’s one of the biggest reasons I feel so lost and alone.

10:30 a.m. As we walk to the car, the mess in our garage is all I can focus on. It’s all his shit. Clothes he was supposed to donate, rusty tools, garbage bags he never took out. I bite my tongue. We fight about him being a slob all the time, and he never changes, so I’m just indifferent at this point. I’ve stopped caring.

3 p.m. We’re at my mom’s house. She has homemade pies. Everyone is nice, if repressed. My brother and Jake are having beers. We talk about my work; I’m a physical therapist and taking steps to open my own business. My mom asks about her ongoing back pain. She never does the stretches I teach her, but I show her for the millionth time.

6 p.m. Again, I drive home because Jake had a few beers.

9 p.m. We are silent at home. I’m at the computer stocking up on Amazon, and he’s watching TV. That’s just what it’s like now. It’s either like we talk and I’m filled with rage over one thing or another, or we don’t talk, which means at least we’re not fighting.

DAY THREE

8 a.m. I go to my car in the garage. All I can see are the beer cans piled up in the recycling. Just out of principle, I won’t take them out for him. On the drive to work, I promise myself this is the week I’m leaving him. I feel so numb about it all. I don’t even cry.

9:50 a.m. So happy to be at the office. Work is literally my sanctuary, and the minute I walk in the door, I feel like I can finally relax. I love what I do and I’m good at it. My clients are mostly women and mostly athletes.

12:45 p.m. I run out for lunch. There’s a deli in a strip mall nearby. The butcher there is sexy. He’s like a hipster butcher, not an old-man butcher. He always says the same thing when I order a sandwich, “Where’s my massage?” He knows where I work because his mom was a client once. He’s a flirt, and I’ve heard he’s single. I’m dying to date and explore new people.

5:30 p.m. I’m driving home while literally rehearsing my breakup lines out loud. I know Jake and I know he will be floored when I say I’m done. He doesn’t have a clue. All the fighting, the tension, he’s either oblivious to it or he thinks that’s just how life goes — your girlfriend becomes your “old lady,” and your “old lady” is a nag and a bitch, and welcome to life. But we’re too young for that! I pull up to our house with no more clarity or strength than before.

6 p.m. Sent Jake to the grocery store to get some things to cook for dinner. He isn’t working right now — he works for a nonprofit and it lost its funding, which I can’t really be mad about because it’s not his fault — so I rely on him to do more things around the house, and he’s fine with that but is never proactive about it. Tonight I tell him to get tofu, fresh vegetables, and also a bottle of white wine for me. And milk!

7 p.m. He forgot the white wine for me; but he didn’t forget a six-pack for himself! I’m fuming.

9 p.m. I tell myself that I can’t commence this conversation without wine, so I’ll wait until tomorrow.

10:30 p.m. I’m in bed reading, and Jake comes in and goes down on me. It’s his favorite thing. I always want to fuck after a few minutes of that, and so we do. It’s so weird how I can still melt into him physically. This is the part of our situation that gives me pause. If the passion is still there, maybe the rest can come back too. Fortunately, after I come, I usually fall right asleep, so no chance for anxiety to slip in.

DAY FOUR

7 a.m. Starbucks drive-through on the way to work.

11:49 a.m. I’m seeing a client, Jane, in a few minutes, so I run into the bathroom and freshen up. I fix my hair, swirl mouthwash, put on a little bit of makeup … very subtle. How do I explain Jane? She’s my patient, my fascination. She’s openly gay, very butch, confident, charming, smart, funny. Right now, she’s single, but she’s never single for long. Every time I see her, we have great banter, but I work superhard to keep it professional. I’ve never been with a woman, but in my heart of hearts, I think I’m bisexual. I’d never cross a line at work, so this leaves her as pure fantasy and nothing more.

1 p.m. We end up talking about a restaurant her best friend is opening by the beach and how there’s a friends-and-family night next week. Jane is like, “You should come. You can be my date.” Awkward, but cute, but awkward moment there. What did she mean by date? I tell her that I’ll try to make it work. In my crazy, fucked-up head, now I have a deadline to dump Jake by.

2 p.m. Literally contemplate masturbating at work, in the bathroom, to the thought of Jane, but I’d never actually do it.

4:40 p.m. Get my period. Explains about 2 percent of my agitation toward Jake.

6:25 p.m. I pull into the parking lot of my favorite bar in the area. Meeting my best friend, Sarah. She’s the only person who knows how stuck I feel with Jake and how badly I want to end things … and how scared I am to do anything about it. Sarah has a new boyfriend and they’re in the honeymoon phase. He has a cool job, and he’s sober and has an amazing personality, and I’m, well, jealous. We talk about him, about Jake. Sarah is a writer and offers to write me a script to break up with him. I tell her I’ll take it but that she doesn’t have to. She said she’s going to email me something tomorrow.

9:40 p.m. Jake has a job interview tomorrow. He’s excited and it’s a great opportunity, and I feel a slight tenderness toward him, seeing him look so optimistic. I also love that he’s really trying to help people.

10:30 p.m. The ups and downs inside my head and heart are fucking out of control. I take a Tylenol PM to sleep.

DAY FIVE

7:15 a.m. Leave for work and give Jake a big hug and kiss and wish him good luck today. I want him to feel good and centered so he nails the interview.

10:40 p.m. The owner of my practice is here today, and I really love her. She knows a little bit about my personal problems at home. Sometimes I wonder how my life looks from the outside — do I present as an unhinged person? I try not to share too much, but on days like this, I truly feel all over the place. Here I am rooting for Jake but also plotting to blow up our life together.

4 p.m. Jake shows up at my job with sunflowers. It’s one of the most romantic things he’s done in years. He thinks he got the job and he’s in a great mood. I’m smiling and it feels really nice. I have a client coming in a half-hour so I send him home but with a big kiss. Jesus Christ, my head and heart are all over the place.

7 p.m. After a long day at work, I come home to a cooked meal from Jake and a bottle of white wine. He apologizes for being in such a funk. We have a long talk about how depressed he’s felt about being unemployed, and the state of the world in general. He really thinks he got this job and should find out tomorrow. I listen to him and decide it’s not the time or place to express any of my breakup feelings. I haven’t seen him this upbeat in months.

9 p.m. We have really good sex. I’m on the pill, so I can’t get pregnant, but it’s in the moment that I suddenly think, Maybe we should just have kids and make it work. I know, I’m a hot mess.

DAY SIX

7:15 a.m. We have a quickie before I get out of bed to shower and go to work.

11:34 a.m. My head is bouncing around all over the place. We have this intense sexual chemistry, and I know most couples really struggle with that part. I know I need therapy, maybe that’s the move … not a full-on breakup.

3:30 p.m. While I’m working with a sweet older client, I think about Jane. Am I bisexual? Shouldn’t I have the chance to test that out? I’m so young to be this locked down. Wow, I’m really spinning out today.

5 p.m. Email from Sarah with a short script for the breakup. It says, “I love you, but I’m not happy … we need time apart to find ourselves so that we can ultimately be stronger, more self-aware people for each other.” It’s tender, calm, and effective. And I don’t think I’ll ever say it. Meanwhile, Jake texts that he got the job offer. He’s thrilled. The money isn’t even that bad for a nonprofit. I give him a quick call and tell him how happy I am for him. But I have a client walking in the door just as he starts telling me the logistics.

7:30 p.m. I walk into another homemade meal from Jake. He’s in a really good mood. We have a great night, talking about the new job and how it will change our lives. The job requires some travel for him, and if we plan it well, it means I can come along. I’m talking Asia, Africa, really interesting places I’ve always wanted to go.

9 p.m. While watching TV, Jake has one dirty sock dangling off his foot. He’s on his third beer. He’s eating a bowl of pretzels and chewing loudly. I’m repulsed, but I don’t want to be repulsed, so I just go to bed early. Maybe the answer is just to avoid the moments when I can’t stand him.

DAY SEVEN

6:40 a.m. I wake up with this weight on my chest. So I do the one thing that always makes me love my boyfriend: I fuck him. His morning breath is revolting, but his dick makes up for it.

9:30 a.m. Our air conditioner at work is broken so we might have to close early. Most people would love the chance to have a summer Friday, but I would so much rather be at work than home.

Noon We close up shop. It’s too damn hot. I decide to take a “me day.” I change into the spare swimsuit I always keep in my car and then drive down to the beach.

2:30 p.m. After a few hours of going in and out of the water, applying sunblock, and trying to read a book, I decide to lay the fuck down and relax on my towel.

5 p.m. It’s time to go home. I haven’t solved any of my bigger problems, but I feel grateful for my surroundings here in Maine, my wonderful job, my health, and my loved ones’ health. Maybe that’s enough.

7 p.m. Jake and I are at a barbecue at our friends’ place. We are holding hands and drinking beers. I’m tan from the day at the beach. He tells me how beautiful I look, and I feel it.

10 p.m. In bed, we start to have sex, but I’m physically exhausted from all the sun, then the alcohol, so instead I say something I haven’t said in years, if ever. I ask him to hold me. And he does.

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