Man - y.kh

forty-one.

Seeing a therapy facility in person was a hard thing to look at. The thought of actually going to therapy was shaking in itself. What do I say? What can I say? What's too much? Will they raise red flags if I really talk about my feelings? So many questions and the possibilities terrified me.

Hyungwon was getting therapy in the hospital, he wasn't ready to come home yet. I could tell as we all sat down that Wonho had been visibly upset, damn near incapable of doing much of anything. "Hello everyone, I'm Dr. Chwe Miyeon, Miyeon Chwe if anyone wants to say it differently." She set her papers down on the table next to her seat.

Jaesung looked really uneasy. Before she could even start, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, can we get another therapist for these boys?" He asked, locking eyes with Miyeon.

"I'm sorry, uhm... that would take referrals and a longer waiting time. I'm fully qualified to do my job." She smiled kindly.

Jaesung scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't think you are. I do a better job than you ever did."

I furrowed my eyebrows, taking Wonho out of the room. I could see it in his eyes, he was about to start spiraling. "Let's go downstairs and get something from the vending machine. How about that?" I asked.

Wonho shook his head softly. "I'm not hungry."

The simple disagreement quickly became loud. "Fuck you, I don't want you to help my fucking kids. Get me someone else. You shouldn't be allowed to work with kids." Jaesung yelled. "How do you start completely the fuck over? How do you just forget? I've been without my son for 17 years and it hurt ever single day, and I've been taking care of yours for five years. How do you just fucking walk away like that?" I froze for a second before turning to look at Wonho.

The pigment in his skin dissipated. "Hey buddy, let's go okay?" I asked softly. He shook his head, rushing back into the room. "Wonho, no." I tried to grab his arm but he snatched away from me.

"You." Wonho yelled, walking back in the room, point his finger at Dr. Chwe. "You're the reason for this. All of this." He started to crumble right then and there. He didn't do well in situations he wasn't one hundred percent disconnected from. "You were probably too high to remember, but I was addicted to meth when I was two years old, it's always in my fucking medical chart, it explains why have an irregular heartbeat now. You used to give me up just so you could get drugs! Are you fucking kidding me? Suddenly, you're fucking clean, new name, new look, with an education? We're talking a minimum of six years on education alone. Six fucking years you've been fixing yourself and not looking into even finding me. That puts me at 12 years old when you started to get your shit together. You know where I was at 12 years old?" He asked. The room went quiet. "I was on the streets, at 12 fucking years old. I ran away from my foster home. And that's when Jaesung picked me up. You were getting clean, starting over. I haven't gotten a chance to start over yet. Why do you get it? You fucking bitch."

Dr. Chwe looked down at her hands. "Are you guys done yet?" She asked.

Wonho scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows. "No! Are you fucking crazy? I have one last question, then you get to act like I don't exist anymore again." She sighed softly, looking up at him as tears brimmed her eyes. "Where's my father?" He asked. "Who is he, where is he? What did he do to you that you had to leave? Or did he just leave on his own?"

Dr. Chwe looked toward her desk, wiping her eyes. She went into a drawer and grabbed a notepad. "I memorized this number years ago." She sighed softly, handing Wonho a post-it note. "Public records, county lockup." I could feel Wonho's heart break with how cold and heartless her response felt. "Now, can you all please leave?" She asked kindly.