The Couch of Truth

From the very beginning of our relationship, I found myself wanting to tell Greg things about myself that nobody else knew. He was an excellent listener, focused and quiet, and he knew when he should offer advice or opinions and when he should simply sit and listen. I also wanted to know everything there was to know about him, and we would have conversations that lasted hours. It started when I would drive him home from the community theater where we met, which often ended up with the two of us sitting in my car outside his apartment until 1:00 AM or later. Later, when we moved in together, it would continue on his sofa with talks, debates, revelations and admissions, conversations we would never be able to have with anyone else.

As our relationship grew and solidified, the discussions continued, and in recent years our communication developed the concept of The Couch of Truth. Here was where we could turn off phones, computers and TV and talk about absolutely anything, especially those topics which we knew we could not discuss with anyone else. We didn't agree on absolutely everything, but we knew we could bring up any concept, any opinion, any argument and it would be received openly without fear of reprisal. I'm not saying we never had any secrets from each other, but on The Couch of Truth, nothing was hidden and any topic was open for discussion. It was liberating, and it built a level of trust and love that I never dreamed possible.

In recent months, Greg and I had discussed replacing the current incarnation of The Couch of Truth. Our soft brown sofa, while incredibly comfortable, has stains, creaky springs and cushions that refuse to stay in place. Now that he is gone, I know it's going to be incredibly hard to give it up, but it's also hard for me to imagine having this level of communication with someone else. I'm thinking maybe, though, I can keep the Couch of Truth in my office or my bedroom as a place for contemplation and meditation. Even if Greg isn't here, I can still tell him everything.