The Doctor’s Advice
Robert Francis Dorey

	“Tell me a little bit about yourself, Mr. Grant.”  The man, true to his profession, was clad all in white.  He leaned forward a bit in his chair, causing his glasses to slide forward a bit on his nose.  His eyes were directed down at the notebook in his hand; he glanced up only occasionally to look at Grant’s expressionless face.
	“What do you want to know?”  He had decided to come here before something bad happened.
	“Well, let’s start with why you came here.”
	Why he came here.  Well, that was easily answered.  Something had happened to him that he didn’t know how to deal with.  He had never experienced this before.
	“Because I’ve discovered I hate something.”
	“You hate something?”  The doctor glanced up at him.  “That’s perfectly normal, isn’t it?”
	“I don’t think so.  I’ve never hated something before.”  This was true.  He had been upset before, he had been disappointed, he had even disliked things, but never had he hated.
	“What makes you so sure you’ve never hated something before?”
	“I’ve never had reason to.”
	“Lots of people hate things, Mr. Grant, and for lots of different reasons,” he pushed his glasses up his nose now and looked Grant in the eye.  “Different aspects of experiences turn people off of those experiences and they no longer desire to do them.  People get into arguments and no longer wish to see each other.  This sort of thing happens every day.”
	“Yes, they do.  I don’t like to smoke and there are some of my neighbours who I don’t care to talk to.  But I don’t hate smoking and I certainly don’t hate those neighbours.”  He looked directly in the doctor’s eyes.  The doctor stared back.
	“What is it you hate, then?”
	“Being alone.”
	“Being alone?”
	“Yes.  I hate it.  Before I thought I just didn’t like it, but I realise now that I hate it.  And that is a very frightening thought.”
	“How do you know that you hate it?”  The doctor spoke slowly and softly.  He appeared, for the first time, genuinely curious.
	“Things that I don’t like, I avoid doing.  I put my energy elsewhere.  However,” his voice dropped.  He looked around as if checking the dark corners of the room for the hate.  It lurked in the strangest places.  “However, with this loneliness, I focus my energy on not liking.”
	“What do you mean?”
	“It sneaks up on me without my knowing it.  I,” his eyes darted to the left.  He had felt it.  “I will find myself lying in bed at night, trying to sleep, but I begin to think about not having someone with me.  Then this anger builds up inside of me and I can’t stop it.  I become absolutely disgusted of being by myself.”  It was grabbing him even now, shaking him.  His voice was rising.  “I ache and my face contorts into a grimace I can’t get rid of.  I become this beast and can’t stop myself.  I want to cry out ‘Why?!’ but I can’t manage it, I am so stiffened by my anger.  I, I…” He was settling down again.  His eyes began to water.  “Then I feel like weeping, and I do sometimes, until I am asleep.”  Even now his eyes watered a little.
	The doctor handed him a tissue.  “Why do you just not think about it?”
	“I can’t stop.  This is what frightens me.  It will leave me when I am distracted.  When I work or when I go out with friends.  But as soon as I am left alone with my thoughts, that is where they go.  It didn’t use to be like this.  It was never like this before.”  Confronting what he had been feeling, actually speaking aloud about it made it seem more ridiculous that it should consume his life so.  But perhaps this doctor, this man who studies the human psyche, a man acquainted with every aspect of the human experience, could help.  “I know I should stop, I know.  But I can’t.”
	“You say it didn’t use to be like this?”
	“No.  I’ve had a fair share of failures with looking for someone to love, but I’ve only ever been disappointed by it.”
	“What has changed your feeling?”
	“Time, I guess.  Seeing others happy, but not myself.”
	“Understandable.  But why don’t you think you can deal with it?”
	“This hate, it just consumes me.  I can’t do anything else but hate being alone.  Other people say they hate, but I think only a very few do.  If they did, they simply wouldn’t have the energy to do anything else.”
	The doctor looked at him for a long time.  He seemed to be considering all that he had said, all that he could see of Grant.
	“I think,” he paused.  “I think, hm…” he looked up toward the ceiling now, fingering his pencil.
	“I think you really shouldn’t worry about it.”  The doctor smiled and put a hand on Grant’s shoulder.  “You are very young.  There is plenty of time for this.  You should enjoy being on your own.”  He chuckled a bit, “It won’t last forever, you know!”
	Grant stared blankly.
	“Are you married, doctor?”
	“Yes.”
	“And you suggest I ignore these feelings?”
	“Yes!”  The doctor continued to smile.  “I think you need to put your mind off of it.  Do the things you like.”  He set his notebook on his desk.  “And don’t worry.  It’ll happen.”
	“It’ll happen?”  Grant reiterated sceptically.
	“Yes, certainly it will happen!”
	“Thank you, doctor.”  He sat up and shook the doctor’s hand.  “Good day.”
	“You’re leaving?  We still have some time left.  You’re sure there’s nothing else troubling you that you would like to discuss?”
	Grant was heading for the door.  Hand on the knob, turning his head, he said, “Quite sure, doctor, quite sure!  You’ve said all you have to,” and with a cheery wave of his other hand he left the doctor’s office.