In Treatment s01e16 Episode Script
Laura - Week Four
Previously on In Treatment.
I hear you, Paul, you wanna kick me out of therapy, I get it.
No, I don't want to kick you out, absolutely not.
I think that you tossed me out a long time ago.
You don't want me to treat you as a psychologist.
You want me to treat you as somebody who's in love with you.
Let's face it, I have not been your therapist for a very long time, Laura.
Maybe you can't treat me because you're in love with me, too.
Where you headed? You need a ride? Laura.
Let's do it.
Paul? Paul? Sorry.
Um, you said that it, uh that it happened in the kitchen.
No, it started in the kitchen.
Are you listening to me? Yes.
Yes, I am.
I said I wanted to do it right there on the counter.
So when he picked me up, I thought, "OK," but no, he took me into the bedroom and he put me down ever so gently like I was, I don't know, a porcelain vase or something.
Everything was very cautious, hesitant, like he didn't know what to do.
Maybe he didn't know what to do with someone who wasn't his wife.
Yeah, he kept telling me he hasn't done it with anyone but his wife for ten years and hardly then.
It was very sweet, actually.
He imitated me.
He did everything I did.
I took off his shirt, he took off my shirt.
I told him he has a fantastic body because he does, and he goes, "So do you.
" At one point he strokes my hair and he asks me what kind of shampoo I use.
Can you believe this? We're lying face to face, petting each other like high school kids.
Anyway, I get sick of it, so I say to myself, "Maybe he's waiting for a signal.
"Maybe he wants me to lead.
"Maybe if I start doing something, things will finally get moving.
" So, I went down on him.
Everything was so proper.
I didn't want proper, I just wanted him to fuck without all the bullshit about my shampoo and my beautiful breasts and my excellent taste in curtains.
So, did that move things along? - What, the blowjob? - Mm-hm.
Of course.
Do you know what? He doesn't like sex.
You know what I mean? He doesn't really like it.
It's like he's carrying out an assignment, a mission, like a pilot.
What do you mean, like a, like a pilot? You know those guys that mark tally points on their fighter jet to keep track of how many planes they shot down? It was like that, like he was keeping score.
I mean, he didn't even touch me while he was going at it.
He was just leaning on his elbows as if he didn't want any connection between us, except where necessary.
I kept trying to bring my face closer to his to kiss him, and he just kept pulling his face away as if he couldn't stand me.
And that was it.
It was very fast, two minutes, more or less, and then he came.
And then he went straight to the bathroom and I just lay there in shock.
I mean, he didn't even ask me how it was, if I was OK or not.
Nothing.
Anyway, I made myself come.
- While he was in the bathroom? - No, when he got back.
I had to.
I mean, I hate to be left high and dry.
He was just lying on his back, conducting dialogue with the ceiling, or maybe with his wife or maybe with you, and he looked so fucking sexy, so I climbed on top of his leg.
Thought he'd get the hint and he'd start something, but nothing.
So I just kept going, riding his thigh.
Felt good.
Then I was overwhelmed with this sadness for him.
Broke my heart, this guy.
He's fragile, really, that's what he is.
I don't think he could tell what I was thinking.
I was completely in my own head and I was thinking to myself, "Shit, this is gonna be the saddest orgasm of my life.
" Here I am, riding this hot, sad guy's thigh.
I was expecting something pitiful and measly, right? But, no.
A volcano is a cliché but that's what it was.
It was like ten orgasms exploding at once.
It's hard to describe.
But I screamed.
I did, I screamed and I think I scared him.
You would've been really proud of me.
- Why would I have been proud? - I mean, as my therapist.
You know, that I finally connected with myself.
It doesn't happen very often.
Sorry.
That was, uh, a bit revealing.
But you must be used to it.
Confessions like that, probably doesn't impress you any more.
- Actually, it makes a big impression.
- Really? What sort of impression? Well, you can look at it in all kinds of ways but one thing seems perfectly plain to me, you slept with my patient.
Excuse me? He isn't your only patient.
He doesn't belong to you.
He's a great guy.
OK, a little fucked up, a little insecure in bed maybe, but he's got potential.
I think I'm gonna have a terrific affair with him.
Still, it's no coincidence that you went to bed with him and I don't think it's a coincidence that you began your affair shortly after we talked about your quitting therapy.
Are you saying that I did this to get back at you? Remember the guy you told me about, the guy you met at the bar, that you went to the rest room with? You said that you felt you were with me.
It's not the same thing, Paul.
Are you sure it isn't? It was during that session, Laura, that you decided to tell me that you were in love with me.
And that's how you chose to tell me how you felt about me, by having sex with another man.
One thing that I put out there, without hinting or manipulation, is that I've wanted you.
So I don't need to fuck another man just to get my message across.
What made you so sad about Alex? His loneliness, he's a sad guy.
- Did you feel sad? - No, I felt horny.
- So sadness for him but none for yourself.
- What are you trying to get at here? Maybe you did feel sadness because you were with a man you didn't really want to be with.
Are you saying when I was fucking Alex, I was fucking you? - Were you? - Don't flatter yourself.
Well, it's not really a compliment.
I think it seems more like, "Look what you missed out on, Paul, you coward, you idiot.
" Mm.
I'm tired.
I'm really so tired.
So, uh, after Alex left, I couldn't fall asleep.
I suddenly had this incredible craving for cheesecake.
- Cheesecake.
- You know those really fluffy cheesecakes with that amazing smell? Well, my mother used to bake those.
Every Friday afternoon, after I finished playing with my friends, I used to come home.
That smell was intoxicating.
It was like a trail of scent paving my way home.
Like a cartoon character.
Then my mother got sick.
The cancer was only stage one at that point, when they found it.
When she started chemo, she stopped baking.
You know, she was tired, she had no energy.
That was the first sign, the first sign that something really big was about to happen.
When she was really sick, I used to find myself roaming the halls of the apartment building, climbing up and down the stairs, searching for that smell of cheesecake.
Shit, how corny is that? And once I remember a woman coming out of her apartment and she, uh Thank you.
.
.
and she saw me standing out there, she didn't know who I was.
She must've been new to the building.
And she was yelling at me, "Go away, go on, go home.
"What are you doing standing out here?" Why do you think you had that particular memory the other night? I don't know.
I searched through my whole apartment looking for a recipe, but Not that that would've done any good.
My fridge is completely empty.
I thought about going out to get a piece but it was 3am, so I just gave up and went to sleep.
Only then the phone rang and it was Alex.
He called to thank me and tell me he had an amazing time with me and that he wants to see me again.
Go figure, huh? He's supposed to pick me up from here soon.
- From here? - Yeah, that's what he said.
Aren't you afraid that Andrew will find out about this or or maybe you want to get caught? Andrew and I split up.
- What? - For good.
And it is for good.
He's a nice guy, he'll make a nice husband for someone who deserves him.
But obviously not for you.
Well, I nearly fuck guys in bathroom stalls as you, um, very kindly reminded me.
I just couldn't stand up there in front of everyone and promise to Well, I just shouldn't ever make promises.
Hey, I promise not to make any more promises, how's that? So I told him that "I'm sorry but I can't marry you.
"I am incapable of being the woman you want, the kind of woman you deserve.
" I put it all on me.
Well, because it is all me.
And he looked at me and he said, "Thank you, Laura.
"Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
"God exists.
It's a fact.
"He's made me realise who and what you are "and he's saved me from a long, endless death with you.
" - Flattering, no? - He must be devastated.
Maybe he feels - I don't care how he feels.
- You don't care how No.
I don't feel like talking about his side of the story.
- Why does that make you so upset? - Because I'm the one in therapy here.
He has a therapist.
She'll take care of him.
Don't worry about him, worry about me.
- I am taking care of you.
- You're kicking me out of therapy.
I am not kicking you out.
I brought it up as an option.
Don't sugar-coat it.
You even tried to blame it on me.
You made up the most ridiculous case as to why I was late.
It was nasty, a bullshit excuse, instead of levelling with me and saying, "I have feelings for you, too, it's hard for me to deal with.
" Instead of figuring it out so we could continue What? So that we could be together, is that what you mean? We've been together for a year, Paul.
A year.
There's more intimacy between us than most couples in the world, isn't that right? - I don't deny a certain intimacy can develop - "A certain intimacy.
" Cut the crap, Paul.
Is there intimacy here or not? Yes.
There is.
And now you're willing to throw that all away? - And why, because y-you're scared? - Laura I know that, as a therapist, you tell yourself it's part of therapy to find out why I'm in love with you and how that's linked to my past but isn't that always the way it works, Paul? Doesn't our past always determine who we fall in love with? So what if you can trace it back to the withholding mother, the narcissistic father, the parent who's missing? Does that make our love any less real? - But circumstances can be less than ideal - I know that.
I know you can delude yourself into thi Only I am not deluded.
Not about you, not about how I feel about you, why I feel it, there's always gonna be an explanation, but that I feel it is irrefutable.
I don't know how to convince you any more.
You think that I've imagined this fairy tale, this happily ever after, that I've idealised you.
You think this is a miserable patient sitting in front of her therapist, imagining that you're my superman, perfect, saviour, mentor.
- I don't see you that way at all.
- How do you really see me? I see you the way you are.
Your imperfections.
You're not at ease with your body, with your profession, with who you've become.
I don't know much about your life but I imagine you're not happy at home.
Something in you is restless, damaged.
There's a yearning there and I know it when I see it.
And I want you just the way you are.
Damaged and restless, yearning.
Warts and all.
- So you can fix me? - You can be such a fucking prick, you know.
So that I can fix you, then? You know, um, next month I'll be 30 and I've been thinking to myself, "I've hated myself for 30 years.
" It's enough.
I don't want to any more.
Why do you hate yourself? - You're surprised? - I've never heard you say it before.
Well, I guess you save the best for last.
That's the best, Laura, that you hate yourself? I don't know, Paul.
It's something people realise about me after an hour.
I didn't know it after an hour or a year.
It's not easy for me to hear you say that.
Maybe you should try and find out why it's so hard for you.
Maybe you should see someone.
Yeah.
I've been thinking about that.
Seriously, I think, um, the reason it's hard for me to hear it is because I I know that you have so many reasons to to love yourself.
So many things to be really proud of, yet you choose to ignore them.
Why? Haven't you ever hated yourself? Yeah.
I guess I did.
Once.
When I was a kid.
My mother, she was in pretty bad shape and, um I took care of her, but, uh I couldn't I couldn't save her from herself, you know? I guess I hated myself for that.
Was she sick? She was in a difficult emotional state.
I thought that I could pull her out of it.
I I used to cook her all these elaborate meals but she wouldn't eat them.
Couldn't understand why.
Like every kid, I thought it was my fault.
There was something that I wasn't doing.
Maybe I could do something else.
- But you know that's not true? - I know that now, yes.
Have you forgiven yourself? I think so.
Took a long time.
How does that feel? I mean, really.
I'm curious.
It was like a relief, to tell you the truth, to know that that burden is gone, the burden of blame.
And to know, deep down, that it never belonged there in the first place.
Mm.
Maybe that's why you became a psychologist, to help others with their burdens.
Yeah, maybe.
So you're a product of your past, too.
Will, uh, that be cash or cheque? - Can I owe you, then? - Sure.
Mm-hm.
Anyway, I know where you live.
Yes, you do.
I should get going.
Alex is waiting for me.
- OK.
- Yeah.
- I forgot, I haven't paid you.
- Oh, that's OK, it'll do next week.
- Thanks.
- You're welcome.
- Bye.
- Bye.
English SDH
I hear you, Paul, you wanna kick me out of therapy, I get it.
No, I don't want to kick you out, absolutely not.
I think that you tossed me out a long time ago.
You don't want me to treat you as a psychologist.
You want me to treat you as somebody who's in love with you.
Let's face it, I have not been your therapist for a very long time, Laura.
Maybe you can't treat me because you're in love with me, too.
Where you headed? You need a ride? Laura.
Let's do it.
Paul? Paul? Sorry.
Um, you said that it, uh that it happened in the kitchen.
No, it started in the kitchen.
Are you listening to me? Yes.
Yes, I am.
I said I wanted to do it right there on the counter.
So when he picked me up, I thought, "OK," but no, he took me into the bedroom and he put me down ever so gently like I was, I don't know, a porcelain vase or something.
Everything was very cautious, hesitant, like he didn't know what to do.
Maybe he didn't know what to do with someone who wasn't his wife.
Yeah, he kept telling me he hasn't done it with anyone but his wife for ten years and hardly then.
It was very sweet, actually.
He imitated me.
He did everything I did.
I took off his shirt, he took off my shirt.
I told him he has a fantastic body because he does, and he goes, "So do you.
" At one point he strokes my hair and he asks me what kind of shampoo I use.
Can you believe this? We're lying face to face, petting each other like high school kids.
Anyway, I get sick of it, so I say to myself, "Maybe he's waiting for a signal.
"Maybe he wants me to lead.
"Maybe if I start doing something, things will finally get moving.
" So, I went down on him.
Everything was so proper.
I didn't want proper, I just wanted him to fuck without all the bullshit about my shampoo and my beautiful breasts and my excellent taste in curtains.
So, did that move things along? - What, the blowjob? - Mm-hm.
Of course.
Do you know what? He doesn't like sex.
You know what I mean? He doesn't really like it.
It's like he's carrying out an assignment, a mission, like a pilot.
What do you mean, like a, like a pilot? You know those guys that mark tally points on their fighter jet to keep track of how many planes they shot down? It was like that, like he was keeping score.
I mean, he didn't even touch me while he was going at it.
He was just leaning on his elbows as if he didn't want any connection between us, except where necessary.
I kept trying to bring my face closer to his to kiss him, and he just kept pulling his face away as if he couldn't stand me.
And that was it.
It was very fast, two minutes, more or less, and then he came.
And then he went straight to the bathroom and I just lay there in shock.
I mean, he didn't even ask me how it was, if I was OK or not.
Nothing.
Anyway, I made myself come.
- While he was in the bathroom? - No, when he got back.
I had to.
I mean, I hate to be left high and dry.
He was just lying on his back, conducting dialogue with the ceiling, or maybe with his wife or maybe with you, and he looked so fucking sexy, so I climbed on top of his leg.
Thought he'd get the hint and he'd start something, but nothing.
So I just kept going, riding his thigh.
Felt good.
Then I was overwhelmed with this sadness for him.
Broke my heart, this guy.
He's fragile, really, that's what he is.
I don't think he could tell what I was thinking.
I was completely in my own head and I was thinking to myself, "Shit, this is gonna be the saddest orgasm of my life.
" Here I am, riding this hot, sad guy's thigh.
I was expecting something pitiful and measly, right? But, no.
A volcano is a cliché but that's what it was.
It was like ten orgasms exploding at once.
It's hard to describe.
But I screamed.
I did, I screamed and I think I scared him.
You would've been really proud of me.
- Why would I have been proud? - I mean, as my therapist.
You know, that I finally connected with myself.
It doesn't happen very often.
Sorry.
That was, uh, a bit revealing.
But you must be used to it.
Confessions like that, probably doesn't impress you any more.
- Actually, it makes a big impression.
- Really? What sort of impression? Well, you can look at it in all kinds of ways but one thing seems perfectly plain to me, you slept with my patient.
Excuse me? He isn't your only patient.
He doesn't belong to you.
He's a great guy.
OK, a little fucked up, a little insecure in bed maybe, but he's got potential.
I think I'm gonna have a terrific affair with him.
Still, it's no coincidence that you went to bed with him and I don't think it's a coincidence that you began your affair shortly after we talked about your quitting therapy.
Are you saying that I did this to get back at you? Remember the guy you told me about, the guy you met at the bar, that you went to the rest room with? You said that you felt you were with me.
It's not the same thing, Paul.
Are you sure it isn't? It was during that session, Laura, that you decided to tell me that you were in love with me.
And that's how you chose to tell me how you felt about me, by having sex with another man.
One thing that I put out there, without hinting or manipulation, is that I've wanted you.
So I don't need to fuck another man just to get my message across.
What made you so sad about Alex? His loneliness, he's a sad guy.
- Did you feel sad? - No, I felt horny.
- So sadness for him but none for yourself.
- What are you trying to get at here? Maybe you did feel sadness because you were with a man you didn't really want to be with.
Are you saying when I was fucking Alex, I was fucking you? - Were you? - Don't flatter yourself.
Well, it's not really a compliment.
I think it seems more like, "Look what you missed out on, Paul, you coward, you idiot.
" Mm.
I'm tired.
I'm really so tired.
So, uh, after Alex left, I couldn't fall asleep.
I suddenly had this incredible craving for cheesecake.
- Cheesecake.
- You know those really fluffy cheesecakes with that amazing smell? Well, my mother used to bake those.
Every Friday afternoon, after I finished playing with my friends, I used to come home.
That smell was intoxicating.
It was like a trail of scent paving my way home.
Like a cartoon character.
Then my mother got sick.
The cancer was only stage one at that point, when they found it.
When she started chemo, she stopped baking.
You know, she was tired, she had no energy.
That was the first sign, the first sign that something really big was about to happen.
When she was really sick, I used to find myself roaming the halls of the apartment building, climbing up and down the stairs, searching for that smell of cheesecake.
Shit, how corny is that? And once I remember a woman coming out of her apartment and she, uh Thank you.
.
.
and she saw me standing out there, she didn't know who I was.
She must've been new to the building.
And she was yelling at me, "Go away, go on, go home.
"What are you doing standing out here?" Why do you think you had that particular memory the other night? I don't know.
I searched through my whole apartment looking for a recipe, but Not that that would've done any good.
My fridge is completely empty.
I thought about going out to get a piece but it was 3am, so I just gave up and went to sleep.
Only then the phone rang and it was Alex.
He called to thank me and tell me he had an amazing time with me and that he wants to see me again.
Go figure, huh? He's supposed to pick me up from here soon.
- From here? - Yeah, that's what he said.
Aren't you afraid that Andrew will find out about this or or maybe you want to get caught? Andrew and I split up.
- What? - For good.
And it is for good.
He's a nice guy, he'll make a nice husband for someone who deserves him.
But obviously not for you.
Well, I nearly fuck guys in bathroom stalls as you, um, very kindly reminded me.
I just couldn't stand up there in front of everyone and promise to Well, I just shouldn't ever make promises.
Hey, I promise not to make any more promises, how's that? So I told him that "I'm sorry but I can't marry you.
"I am incapable of being the woman you want, the kind of woman you deserve.
" I put it all on me.
Well, because it is all me.
And he looked at me and he said, "Thank you, Laura.
"Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
"God exists.
It's a fact.
"He's made me realise who and what you are "and he's saved me from a long, endless death with you.
" - Flattering, no? - He must be devastated.
Maybe he feels - I don't care how he feels.
- You don't care how No.
I don't feel like talking about his side of the story.
- Why does that make you so upset? - Because I'm the one in therapy here.
He has a therapist.
She'll take care of him.
Don't worry about him, worry about me.
- I am taking care of you.
- You're kicking me out of therapy.
I am not kicking you out.
I brought it up as an option.
Don't sugar-coat it.
You even tried to blame it on me.
You made up the most ridiculous case as to why I was late.
It was nasty, a bullshit excuse, instead of levelling with me and saying, "I have feelings for you, too, it's hard for me to deal with.
" Instead of figuring it out so we could continue What? So that we could be together, is that what you mean? We've been together for a year, Paul.
A year.
There's more intimacy between us than most couples in the world, isn't that right? - I don't deny a certain intimacy can develop - "A certain intimacy.
" Cut the crap, Paul.
Is there intimacy here or not? Yes.
There is.
And now you're willing to throw that all away? - And why, because y-you're scared? - Laura I know that, as a therapist, you tell yourself it's part of therapy to find out why I'm in love with you and how that's linked to my past but isn't that always the way it works, Paul? Doesn't our past always determine who we fall in love with? So what if you can trace it back to the withholding mother, the narcissistic father, the parent who's missing? Does that make our love any less real? - But circumstances can be less than ideal - I know that.
I know you can delude yourself into thi Only I am not deluded.
Not about you, not about how I feel about you, why I feel it, there's always gonna be an explanation, but that I feel it is irrefutable.
I don't know how to convince you any more.
You think that I've imagined this fairy tale, this happily ever after, that I've idealised you.
You think this is a miserable patient sitting in front of her therapist, imagining that you're my superman, perfect, saviour, mentor.
- I don't see you that way at all.
- How do you really see me? I see you the way you are.
Your imperfections.
You're not at ease with your body, with your profession, with who you've become.
I don't know much about your life but I imagine you're not happy at home.
Something in you is restless, damaged.
There's a yearning there and I know it when I see it.
And I want you just the way you are.
Damaged and restless, yearning.
Warts and all.
- So you can fix me? - You can be such a fucking prick, you know.
So that I can fix you, then? You know, um, next month I'll be 30 and I've been thinking to myself, "I've hated myself for 30 years.
" It's enough.
I don't want to any more.
Why do you hate yourself? - You're surprised? - I've never heard you say it before.
Well, I guess you save the best for last.
That's the best, Laura, that you hate yourself? I don't know, Paul.
It's something people realise about me after an hour.
I didn't know it after an hour or a year.
It's not easy for me to hear you say that.
Maybe you should try and find out why it's so hard for you.
Maybe you should see someone.
Yeah.
I've been thinking about that.
Seriously, I think, um, the reason it's hard for me to hear it is because I I know that you have so many reasons to to love yourself.
So many things to be really proud of, yet you choose to ignore them.
Why? Haven't you ever hated yourself? Yeah.
I guess I did.
Once.
When I was a kid.
My mother, she was in pretty bad shape and, um I took care of her, but, uh I couldn't I couldn't save her from herself, you know? I guess I hated myself for that.
Was she sick? She was in a difficult emotional state.
I thought that I could pull her out of it.
I I used to cook her all these elaborate meals but she wouldn't eat them.
Couldn't understand why.
Like every kid, I thought it was my fault.
There was something that I wasn't doing.
Maybe I could do something else.
- But you know that's not true? - I know that now, yes.
Have you forgiven yourself? I think so.
Took a long time.
How does that feel? I mean, really.
I'm curious.
It was like a relief, to tell you the truth, to know that that burden is gone, the burden of blame.
And to know, deep down, that it never belonged there in the first place.
Mm.
Maybe that's why you became a psychologist, to help others with their burdens.
Yeah, maybe.
So you're a product of your past, too.
Will, uh, that be cash or cheque? - Can I owe you, then? - Sure.
Mm-hm.
Anyway, I know where you live.
Yes, you do.
I should get going.
Alex is waiting for me.
- OK.
- Yeah.
- I forgot, I haven't paid you.
- Oh, that's OK, it'll do next week.
- Thanks.
- You're welcome.
- Bye.
- Bye.
English SDH