When Love Fails to Heal, See a Psychiatrist

We often hear or read about the healing power of love. But it doesn't always work -- it can't overcome all obstacles -- and when that happens, perhaps one should consult a psychiatrist.

That appears to one message of "Sleep," a short story by Colm Toibin in the March 23, 2015, edition of "The New Yorker."

I know what you will do when morning comes. I wake before you do and I lie still. Sometimes I doze, but usually I am alert, with my eyes open. I don’t move. I don’t want to disturb you. I can hear your soft, calm breathing and I like that. And then at a certain point you turn toward me without opening your eyes; your hand reaches over, and you touch my shoulder or my back. And then all of you comes close to me. It is as though you were still sleeping—there is no sound from you, just a need, almost urgent but unconscious, to be close to someone. This is how the day begins when you are with me.

That's the opening paragraph of "Sleep." It's a very fine and powerful piece of writing that drew me in. Unfortunately, however, it isn't stylistically equaled by anything that follows, but that is beside the point here.