Lori compares the way patients present themselves to different snapshots, taken at different times. Each snapshot tells us more about a person, whether it is unflattering, blurry, perfectly captured or even ugly. The task of the therapist is to take the initial snapshots patients present and the imagined, optimal ones down the line, and bring them into a unity. 

Lori describes Wendell’s waiting room that is as unusual as his office, “the aesthetic in here is Grandma’s hand-me-downs” (118). She has brought pages of notes she made while having forced conversations with Boyfriend. This continues for several weeks, and despite Wendell’s interjections that her behavior is masochistic and unhelpful, Lori perseveres with her obsession, trying to “prove a point rather than have an interaction in earnest” (123). She “Google-stalks” Boyfriend, agonizing over his apparently calm life: “‘Did I matter?’ I ask over and over” (124).

Wendell tells her that she enjoys suffering too much, instead of focusing on the pain of loss. They also discuss that Lori has chosen the seat farthest from Wendell, which few patients do. This speaks to her distancing herself from unappealing prospects, such as the truth of Boyfriend’s lack of connection to children. He tells her it is important to acknowledge that “feelings don’t have to mesh with what you think they should be” (129).