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it, too.

Tal is the perfect daughter. Supposedly. I know that there’s no such thing as “perfect,” but Tal really does project that perfect image. She always helps everyone. Always knows what to say and what to do. Stands out with excellence in every stage of her life. But I’ve known for years that deep down she’s unhappy. The reason for it isn’t entirely clear to me. Maybe it’s just the kind of thing that only sisters can tell about each other.

Furthermore, Tal is beautiful. She’s impressively tall, but not as brazenly as me. Her hair has a golden hue, especially during the summer or in the sunshine. Her eyes are disproportionately large and slanted, and her appearance is in general much more sophisticated than mine.

Of course she’s way more successful socially, too. Always surrounded by friends. Always with a trail of suitors after her. Only, no one’s gotten to be the “chosen” one.

Actually, I don’t think she’s ever had a boyfriend. At least not a serious one.

I was looking forward to my session with her, but I was also dreading it. I wondered why she was so anxious to see me. I was worried that Dad put her up to it, which then reduced my excitement. The thought that I was still of interest to her. That she does want to spend time with me. Maybe even grow closer to me. If Dad’s behind it, then it would all be fake. Almost like her.

Fourth Meeting

Miko was standing at my feet, ready and willing to see his sweetheart. I thought that he was being a traitor just like before, but then she opened the door with that smile of hers, and I walked in hesitantly again. I didn’t want to sit down, but she tried nonetheless, and after a few seconds I sat down on the armchair in blatant discontent, only after she sat down, of course. I kept quiet. Rotem looked at me in a way that made me feel uneasy. I wondered if Dad had told her something about me. I felt as though she knew things about me, which is probably why I stayed quiet.

I didn’t say a word for a while, and Rotem kept looking at me. Another intense stare that, although I wasn’t looking, I could sense very distinctly.

I lifted my eyes. “What?”

“I’m listening.”

“What are you listening to if I’m not talking?” I pounced.

“I listen to everything you bring with you, even silences. I believe that in your own time, and at your own pace, you’ll find the right words to tell me whatever you want, and perhaps even share your troubling thoughts with me.”

I remained silent for a moment.

“I’ve got something,” I began. I looked up at her briefly, then went back to staring at my shoes.

“Sometimes I have strange dreams. That’s one example of something very bad in my life. There are times when it happens more frequently, and times when it’s less. I hate it.”

I looked up again and saw Rotem looking at me seriously and attentively.

“Tell me about the dreams.”

“No. I don’t want to share that, and I don’t even understand why and how I’m supposed to share things with you. I don’t know you, and I’ve already told you that I don’t want to be here. I don’t know why I told you about the dreams. It’s been nearly 45 minutes anyway and we need to finish up.”

“That’s all right. I’m in no rush, and no one is scheduled after you so we do have a little more time. But it’s fine. You’re right. This can feel overwhelming. It’s important for you to feel safe here.”

I was irritated by how she was analyzing my supposed feelings with psychological mumbo-jumbo. On the other hand, I recoiled − because it was true. And I was also surprised by the fact that she wanted to spend more time with me.

We still had five minutes left to the session. I knew because I kept looking at the clock every few minutes. Partly because of the embarrassment of her potentially having to tell me that the session was over, for me not to be expelled. I would be the one to get up first. And partly because I wanted to end the session, all of these therapy sessions are pretty heavy. And partly because of the excitement about the next meeting on my schedule that day. My heart was bouncing around in my chest like some child waiting for her mother at the airport after a long time away from each other.

I came out of Rotem Golan’s clinic and walked in the direction of the café where we’d decided to meet.

On the bus, I thought about her, about this Rotem woman, and about having shared the issue of my dreams. Or, more to the point, the fact that I’m having dreams. Strange dreams. Perhaps even nightmares, sometimes, when I wake up all sweaty and my heart’s pounding within the prison of my body.

Sometimes I wake up wanting to scream. Wanting to go wild. But something inside doesn’t let me. I wipe away the sweat, turn over to lie on my side and go back to sleep. Sometimes I toss and turn until the break of dawn. Sometimes I invite Miko into bed and hug him tightly until I fall back to sleep.

I spotted her from afar, my big sister. Sitting in her majestic manner, leafing through the menu. Scattering warm smiles to every passerby, as though she’s a character in a Hollywood movie.

Her azure eyes met my black ones. Smile, nod. She stood up and quickly advanced towards me, as though she’d been waiting for me for hours. She came up to hug me, as usual, and I backed off slightly but eventually surrendered.

“So, Miko, you came too,” she said seemingly casually, but deep down I knew that she wasn’t happy about it.

As we sat down, she said, “So, tell me. What’s happening with you? What are you up to? What’s new?”

“Nothing. The usual, you

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