The Fault in Our Kifflom

Chapter 1 - The Same Whiskey

Late in the winter of my fifty-first year, Amanda decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time by my pool, drank the same whisky over and over, ate a lot and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time thinking about Epsilon.

"Smoking in my house, over the years you have turned into a complete asshole!" Shrieked Amanda.

"Thank you," I yelled sarcastically. "Your support in my difficult times means a lot to me."

"I supported you, I left everything to come here with you and still you're depressed," said Amanda. "Just don't be so miserable around me and the children, you low-life, whore-mongering asswipe."

She strode away mumbling; "No wonder I'm so upset."

* * *

"Be seated." Said Dr Friedlander, casually shuffling the notes on his desk.

"How are you, Michael?" Inquired Friedlander as he sat in the plush leather armchair.

"I'm good, Doc..."

"Hmm?" Friedlander mumbled

"Actually no, no I'm not. I'm a train wreck, Doc. I suppose you would call it the consequences of acting out." I explained, not really sure where the hell I was going with this.

"We really must have more sessions, Michael..."

I backfired with: "I've been having these conversations long enough to know the things that put me edge, to know the things that will set me off, like Amanda. Especially Amanda..." My words trailing off into nothing.

"Have you been arguing with her?" Questioned Friedlander.

I stood up in anger and paced the length of the glass window that overlooked Vespucci Beach whilst saying:

"When aren't we arguing, Doc! She sends me well over the line! If she isn't arguing with me or wasting my money with Tracy, she's with the pool boy!"

I stopped furthest away from Friedlander and assessed his face in anticipation.

"Maybe you should take responsibility for these actions, she's pushing you away because you're not being a good enough husband maybe?" he explained calmly.

I slowly sat back down thinking about those words.

Friedlander continued:

"Do you love her, Michael?"

"What?"

"Do you love Amanda?"

I've held up many liquor stores in my time, and it didn't phase me one bit, but that question made my palms sweat slightly. I steadily replied:

"I-I-I... I guess so? I mean she's my wife, we've been through a lot together," I began to panic slightly "What are you trying to say, Doc?"

Friedlander looked at his watch impatiently and then back to me and said:

"I'll leave you with that thought, Michael. I'm afraid we've run out of time."

Dr Friedlander quickly rose from his seat and ushered me to the door.

"I'm very sorry, Michael, but I've got this support group I need to get to, quite enlightening stuff. I'll see you next week." He opened the door and I walked out without saying another word, still in slight shock about what Dr Isiah Friedlander just said.

Did I love Amanda?

{A/N - so this is the first real chapter!! we'll try to update as soon as possible - let us know what you think so far :)) }