Jadis....(and I'm no Barbra)

(Once.) I think that word means once in French, I remember reading a Rimbaud poem (you can see the English text here) that started that way. You can read about him here. I've been thinking about "once" lately, and how things that were "once" are different now... and in most cases different means worse. For example, I remember when doctors were older than me. A lot older than me. Even at University I remember that my doctor was a grey haired man with kind hands and a comforting smile. He also had photographs of the ships he had served on during World War II on the walls of his office. I guess when I think about it, everyone was older than me, Once. It's just that my new therapist is younger than me, just a couple of years, but still. He's also gay and handsome, and obscenely accomplished; Rhodes Scholar, Phd and MD, etc. He's athletic and his only fault, if it could be called that, is a missing half-finger. He lost it in a sailing accident for chrissakes. That was the last straw. If I was missing a finger it would probably be from people like him slamming doors in my face/on my fingers. The doors of life. The ones that clearly swung wide open for him. He reminds me of Hubble, if that means anything. Confident and accomplished, and pretty well the last person I want to share my idiosyncrasies with. When he asked me what my "biggest issue" was during our first appointment, I wasn't prepared for the question, so just said ennui. I swear I wasn't trying to be esoteric, but I was caught off guard. It's not even that it's the "wrong answer," it's just that I feel a little locked into running with that problem, which might not be such a bad thing.