Who are you?
Alex finally gets to see a counsellor.
He wasn't supposed to this soon, but someone left the waiting list and Alex was moved right up. I feel a little bit bad for feeling happy about this as that person obviously went through something that led to them needing to see someone, but now Alex gets to see a counsellor and I know that he truly does need the professional help.
I, on the other hand, am not on any sort of waiting list, despite Alex saying that he only wanted to see a counsellor if I did too. I've been on the same medication since I stopped therapy around seven or so months ago, and I can't change the dosage if I'm not seeing a mental health professional, and I know that I probably do need a change, so maybe I will go and see one. I don't know yet.
The counselling people found a spot to see Alex today. It's an introduction session for him to acquaint himself with the counsellor and for everything to be explained to him so it's not really a proper one—those don't start until another few weeks. He has asked me to come with him.
That is where I found myself this morning, sat next to Alex on a brown leather sofa, holding his hand, facing a desk where a tall, mousy haired woman wearing a grey pantsuit sits with a notepad in front of her. She's got a soft expression on her face, and a smile never slips. She looks kind. That's good. Comforting, actually, and not just for Alex.
The whole office seems cosy. It's a small, stereotypical counselling office. The floor is wooden, the walls are painted cream, there is only one window to our left which is the only source of light other than two lamps, we're sat on a brown, leather sofa specifically designed for you to be able to lie down on, the counsellor sits by a desk, there are tissues on the table in front of us, there's a potted plant next to me, picture frames are hung on the walls. The sort of thing you see in the movies.
The counsellor introduces herself as Dr. Samantha Fernsby. "You must be the boyfriend," she says as she shakes my hand. I smile and nod. Alex let her know beforehand that I would be joining.
She jumps right into it. Reading from a computer, Samantha talks about the reason Alex is there, to which he confirms, and she double checks his age, address, and other important information.
After that, she explains what will happen. She would like to see him every two weeks on a Friday. If she feels as though a session should be closer because of anything they talked about, it will be moved closer by a week. There will be no less than a week between the sessions because of how booked up they are with clients. The time with which a session will take place may not be the same every week and it will be decided during each session. She will read out the available times and Alex will pick one.
Next, she explains that her office is a complete no judgement space and any information talked about will not be spoken about with anyone else outside the office by Samantha except to the police if they need to know something, such as Alex admitting that he is abusing someone, for example.
If Alex misses three sessions or more without letting Samantha know beforehand and with no valid excuse, she has the right to terminate the counselling if she so wishes to. She says that he does not even need to say anything to her, she just advises that he comes. He can sit there wordlessly for the whole hour if he wants to, although she does encourage that he does what he comes for and confides in a professional to be able to get the help that he needs.
Samantha then asks what Alex wants from this. He says to forget about his parents, or at least stop the hurt in his heart he feels every time he thinks of them and what they did to cause him that hurt. He wants closure to everything that has happened and to move on with his life without them haunting him.
As Alex speaks, Samantha hastily scribbles down things on a notepad. It's dizzying how quick she can write.
Finally, Samantha tells Alex to explain a bit about his childhood. He visibly tenses. I hold his hand more firmly during this. When they finish with this discussion, Samantha tells him what she would like to touch on next session regarding what he told her. They pick out a time, and we leave. I didn't speak much during the whole thing, but I didn't think I was going to anyway, I was only there for moral support.
"Are you OK, love?" I ask as we sit in my car in the parking lot, taking Alex's hand as he stares aimlessly out the window. His gaze promptly switches to me as he sucks in a breath.
"Yeah, I am. Thank you, you know, for, um, making me come. It means a lot that you care about all of this," He says, and it's quiet and hesitant.
I'm now able to tell how he's feeling from the volume or tone of his words. He speaks quieter when he's angry although he's aching to raise his voice. His aim is to never raise his voice: at me, at friends, at anyone, regardless of how angry he is, unless they truly deserve it. His dad was very loud when angry. Alex doesn't want to turn into that. When he's quiet and hesitant, he's sad or shy or unsure or dejected or hurt. I guess that right now it's sad and possibly hurt. When he's louder, he's excited or elated or very happy, and he's usually laughing a lot then. His normal voice means everything else.
He's the only person I've ever been able to properly decipher the mood of through tone of voice. It's so very clear to me, like he's stating how he's feeling out loud. Other people, not so much.
A 'thank you for caring' again.
"You say that too much," I let him know because he really does. He says it like it's something unexpected. I say the same thing every time in hopes that he someday realises that he deserves it and that he's cared about by many. "Of course, I care. There's no need to be surprised. I love you, you muppet."
"Muppet." He lets out a laugh, and he says that a bit louder now. I smile at that. "I remember you called me that day on the beach when you forgave me."
"I did?"
"Yeah." He nods. "Shut up so I can kiss you, you muppet," He says, mocking my accent terribly.
"You remember," I half state, half question. I feel bad for not remembering it myself. That conversation on the beach was nearly four months ago now. How time flies. A lot has happened since then.
"I remember everything about you."
"Go on, then," I challenge. "Tell me everything you remember about me."
"This might take a a while," Alex says. He clears his throat theatrically. "Your birthday is the fifth of November, which is Guye Fawkes day, that English fireworks holiday thing. Your lucky number is twenty-three. Everyone on your mother's side of the family had their first child at that age, so you hope to carry on that tradition. Are you still sticking with that?"
"Yes," I confirm. "I hope that OK. I know it's a bit young, but I like tradition and I want kids."
"It's more than OK. Anyway, your favourite colour is orange because it reminds you of fall, which is your favourite season because you love the vibes of Halloween. Your favourite animal is a sloth because you find their laziness funny and relatable. You hate anything that flies and cheesecake because sweet and savoury should not be mixed. Your favourite childhood book is Peter Pan—your mother used to read to you when you were sad or sick. You used to have an imaginary enemy instead of an imaginary friend called Claire who unexpectedly went away when you were nine. You think of her as a human, but not actually human, form of your anxiety. You used to live in Brighton, England. Your primary school in England is called Carlton Hill and the secondary school is called Dorothy Stringer. You lost your virginity at aged fifteen to Mackenzie. You don't understand how people sexually attracted to men don't like sucking dick."
I instantly feeling my face heat up. I was not expecting him to say that. "Why would you mention that?" I admonish.
He laughs his usual, gorgeous laugh, "Because I wanted to see your reaction."
I whack his arm.
"Carry on, then, or is that all?"
"No, it's not. You have to sleep on the left side of the bed or else you won't sleep so well. Your favourite foods are green olives because you're a weirdo and pasta. Your pet peeves are bad grammar, which I annoy you with when texting you, and insensitivity. Your favourite drink is a salted caramel latte. There are approximately seventy-five paintings and sketches stuck on your bedroom wall and two hundred painted onto your bedroom wall. Your favourite painter is Leonid Afremov because you love how he uses palette knives to create his paintings and they're very realistic. You love to watch Teen Wolf and Glee. You've recently gotten into Jane the Virgin. Your favourite movie is Call Me By Your Name but you've only watched it once and refuse to watch it again because it makes your heart hurt. You know all the lyrics of all the Hamilton song. If you had to choose between you getting shot and killed or a stranger, you would choose yourself every time unless the stranger is someone like a murderer or rapist or someone like that. You don't believe someone can truly be a bad person apart from like Hitler and people like him. And you're the most beautiful person on the planet. There's obviously more but we'd be here all day."
"You have no idea how much I love you," I mutter, astonished at his ability to say the next fact about me without having to stop for even a second to think about it. He almost knows me more than I know myself.
"You have no idea how much I love you."
"Gross."
I lean over and kiss him, once, twice, three times. Then, I drive home with a smile.
Walking into Alex's apartment, he seems a lot happier than he did walking out of counselling. I wonder if it really is the right thing for him. I only assumed it would be because it was for me, but now I realise that my experience doesn't speak for him. If he's going to feel sadness every time he walks out of that office, is it worth it? Or is it because he's yet to get used to talking about his problems?
I don't get time to dwell on it as Alex walks up behind me while I'm turning on the coffee machine.
"What are you doing?" I ask when I feel his hands on me. I can't help but grin at his presence.
"Giving your ass some love," He responds, kissing the side of my neck. I tilt my head to grant him some more access. The feeling of his lips on my neck never fails to make me shiver.
I bite my lower lip, "You gave my ass some love this morning."
"Am I not allowed to give it some more love?"
"You are."
"Oh, shit," Alex abruptly says, moving his face away from my neck, leaving it feeling cold. "I forgot I need to go and pick something up."
"What is it?" I ask, confounded by his sudden, hasty movements.
"You'll find out." Alex removes his hands from me and picks up the keys he left on the counter beside us. "Erica will be here any minute with Chloe. If she arrives before I'm back, is it OK if you watch Chloe for a little bit? I won't be too long."
"I'm happy to look after her, but I could go and pick the thing up for you so you'll be here when she arrives?" I offer. I feel my curious nature creep up on me as I wonder why he won't tell me. Does that mean it's for me? A surprise?
"No, no, it's OK. I'll text Erica that I will be out but you will be here. I'll be back soon," He assures me. Next, he's kissing me and then he's walking out of the apartment, leaving me on my own.
I've never been on my own in Alex's apartment before. I hope he won't be too long. I do have experience with looking after young children because of Isaak, but Chloe isn't of any relation to me, and I'm nervous that something will happen and Alex will hate me or be disappointed in me. Especially after going to counselling today and having to expose his emotions and all that.
I sit on the couch and wait nervously for Chloe to arrive, my fingers tapping impatiently on my thighs. Alex has already brought out a couple of toys for her to play with, so I could just put her down with them, right?
It's not long before the intercom buzzes. Answering it, Erica announces her arrival, and I let her up. She's not surprised to see that it's only me there, and she happily hands over the baby to me with the same friendly smile that she had when I last met her. At least she trusts me with Chloe.
"Hi!" Chloe squeals once she's in my arms.
To try and maybe build some sort of rapport with Erica now that I will be seeing her more or less every Friday, I compliment what she's wearing: a long, standout skirt decorated in bright colors and bold patterns. She grins widely at the flattery and explains that it is part of her Ghanaian culture.
Erica lets me know that Chloe has already had lunch and her nap, and leaves after I wish her a good day.
Once her mother is gone, I look down at the happy toddler in my arms, who then looks up at me and boops my nose with her tiny forefinger. "Nose," She mumbles.
"I know I have a big nose. It's Italian genes. Did you know that I'm half Italian?" I say as I boop her nose back. I know that she doesn't have a clue what I'm saying, but I know that you're supposed to talk to babies to help with their speech development or something. I don't know, I just remember talking to Isaak a lot when he couldn't speak himself. He never shuts up now, so maybe that's my fault.
Chloe snuggles into me, and it's at this moment that I know I definitely want to have kids with Alex one day. It's always been in my mind that we'd have a family, but I've never firmly said to myself that it's exactly what I want. Up until now. I want to hold my own child like this one day. A child that I can say is both mine and Alex's.
Her eyes. They're so much like Alex's. A deep, almost velvety, chocolate brown. Captivating. Beautiful. You can definitely tell that she's Alex's child. Besides skin colour, every facial feature is so similar.
"Your daddy says that he talks about me a lot. I wonder what he says," I tell her as I sit on the floor and grab a toy for the girl to entertain herself with.
She toddles over to me and sits beside me, "Mafee."
"Yeah, that's me. Can you say your name?"
"Cwoee."
"That's right, you're Chloe." I clap my hands. She smiles widely at the praise and then grabs a star shaped toy that you're supposed to push through a star shaped hole into a box type thing. I'm not sure what they're called.
Chloe holds the toy out to me, "Mafee toy."
Just as I'm about to take the toy from the hand that she's outstretching towards me, the doorbell goes off. I assume that it's Erica forgetting something.
"I've got to get the door," I say to Chloe as I get up. She frowns at first, but quickly becomes disinterested in wanting me to play too and tries to push the star into a square shaped hole.
I open the door to a women who I've never met before. She stands tall and poised, a polite smile playing on her lips. The way she is dressed further emphasises the confidence. Her trousers are mustard, her shirt pink and her jacket orange. Her shoes match the pink and her eye makeup is polychromatic; a mixture of the three colours, all blended together perfectly. Clipped into her dark, wavy hair are three butterfly clips of the same colours.
Flamboyant.
Her polite smile slips into a frown momentarily, and then is back to a smile, though this time unsure.
"Hi! I don't know you. Is Alex home?" She says, trying to look past me into the apartment. There's something about her that I recognise, yet can't put my finger on it. I can't even figure out if it's something physical or just her presence.
"No, he's not, sorry," I say, hoping that she'll go away. I hate talking to people I don't know, I really do. I shouldn't have even opened the door. The way she's dressed seems...intimidating, in a way. She gives off a care-free vibe. Just like Kenzie does, with her short skirts and crop tops.
"Your accent. So cute," she adds. "Anyway, do you know when he'll be home?"
"Um," I hesitate. All he said was 'I'll be back soon'. "I'm not sure."
"Is it OK if I come in and wait?"
Sure, I'll just let a complete stranger into my boyfriend's apartment. Great idea. Come in and rob the place! Oh, you want to murder me too? That's absolutely fine!
"Uh—what are you here for?" I ask. Please say that it's nothing important and then leave.
The girl pauses, opens her mouth to say something, all the while looking uncertain, closes it, then opens it again and says, "Are you Matthew? Alex's boyfriend?"
Oh, so she knows my name? A stalker? Possibly.
"Yes."
Her eyes light up completely and she lets out a loud gasp. "Oh my God, Alex has not stopped talking about you for three years! I haven't been in Mass so I haven't been able to meet you, but wow, he was so right, you are gorgeous."
"I, um—thank you?" I respond unsurely, still having no clue about who this girl is. "Who are you?"
"I'm Jasmin," She says brightly, as though she expects me to know who she is. I give her a blank look. "Alex's cousin?" Cousin? That's what's familiar about her! I can see it now. Nonetheless, I continue to look at her blankly until her expression drops. "I'm guessing he's never told you about me. What a dick. Can I come in?"
"Yeah, of course." I open the door wider and she steps in, "Would you like a drink?" I offer as I close the door, figuring that it's a polite thing to ask.
"Oh, water, please." Jasmin spots Chloe playing on the floor and crouches down beside her. Looking up, the little girl begins to look scared. "Hello, Chloe. Do you remember me? I'm Jasmin."
"Mafee," Chloe calls out to me, holding arms out, a silent way of asking me to pick her up. I didn't realise she was comfortable enough with me to want me to console her. I don't get to her quick enough, busy with filling a glass up with cold water for the guest, so she repeats herself. "Mafee."
I pass the glass to Jasmin, receiving a muttered thanks in return, and then pick Chloe up. She buries her face into the crook of my neck, shying away from Jasmin. I give Jasmin an apologetic look.
I sit back on the floor with Chloe, who refuses the leave my lap. I attempt to get her to continue playing with her toys, but she is in no means interested and instead wants to simply cuddle into me.
"So, you're locked and loaded for step-dad duties, I see," Jasmin says before taking a sip of her water.
I chuckle awkwardly. What an...interesting thing to say to a person your cousin has only been dating for not even half a year. "Oh, I don't know about that. This is only the third time I've seen Chloe in person."
Jasmin looks surprised at this, "She sure is comfortable with you."
"I know, I didn't expect it myself. Anyway, Alex and I have have only been dating nearly four months, so—I don't think he'll be wanting Chloe to think of me as a step-dad."
"Oh, please." She scoffs and waves dismissively. "The boy is ready to marry you now. If you were a couple years older, he would have proposed to you already."
"I don't think so," I respond, letting out another edgy chuckle. She's quite the prying type, I take it.
"Well, I do. The way he talks about you, anyone would expect you to be some sort of angel. I expect what he says is correct, seeing as he was right on the money with your attractiveness. Plus, he let you meet Chloe before you've been together for six months. He always told me that he'd have to be dating a person for six months before they meet her. He thinks the world of you and is very sure of your relationship and where it will go. He is adamant on marrying you, definitely."
Jasmin is quite similar to Alex in the way that she isn't afraid to say what she thinks. She oozes with self-assurance, which is something I've always thought about Alex. Unlike Alex, I don't think she's aware of what she's saying and that's it's kind of nebby and approaching the edge of privacy. I mean, step-dad duties? Come on! She doesn't know me.
"What does he say about me?" I can't help but ask, feeling a bit nebby myself. Then again, it is about me, so it is somewhat my business.
Before she can answer, the sound of jangling keys resonates from the door, and then it opens, revealing my boyfriend, all smiley, back sooner than I thought he would be. On the other hand, I don't know where he went, so I couldn't be too sure. As soon as he sees Jasmin sat on the sofa, he does a double take.
"Jasmin? What are you doing here?" He asks, visibly unsure if he's seeing things properly.
"I'm so sorry for turning up like this, but I need to talk to you about something," She says in an instant, putting her glass down and standing up.
Alex's attention moves from Jasmin to Chloe, who is still on my lap. "Hi, precious. Are you pooping?" He questions in a completely different tone of voice to the one he was previously using. Looking down at her, I see that Chloe is pulling a face. A pooping face.
And then I begin to smell it.
"Poopy," she announces.
"I'll change her," I offer, hoping to give Alex and Jasmin some privacy, guessing that whatever Jasmin needs to talk about with him is a family issue.
"Lemme give her a kiss first."
After Alex gives his daughter a kiss hello, thanks me for offering to change her and gives me a kiss too, I take Chloe into her bedroom here. I have no trouble finding anything, having helped Alex set up and decorate the room. Though there isn't a changing table here, so I find a blanket and lay the toddler down on that.
Changing her takes no time at all with the plenty experience I have from having a three year old brother who only recently, finally, has been fully potty trained. Once done, I tickle Chloe, causing her shrieks of giggles to fill the room. The sound makes me laugh too. I can't wait to hear the laughter of my own child one day. I really do want this.
After washing my hands in the bathroom, I hesitantly approach the living room with Chloe in my arms, not wanting to impose on any private talk.
"She accidentally shared her location on Facebook. She deleted it, but not before I was able to see. I came here to tell you, and then I was going to go there tomorrow to talk to her," Jasmin tells my boyfriend, leaning over the kitchen counter.
Alex pulls a face; a disapproving one. One that he pulls every time I say something bad about myself. "Why do you want to talk to her?"
"To let her know that she can't shut you out like this. You both went through the same thing and she needs to be be showing you support like I know you'd be showing her if she would let you. I think talking with her face to face will help her understand more than over a call where she can just hang up and block me. I'm not asking you to come with me, but I am here to say that if you wanted to, you can. For closure if she really doesn't want anything to do with you or to say anything that you've been wanting to say to her."
I want to go over to him and hold his hand because I know how much of a difficult topic it is for him, but I also don't want to place myself right in the middle of a conversation which is none of my business. Instead, I put Chloe down, sit next to her, and busy myself with getting her interested in her toys.
"I—I don't know. Can I think about it?" I can hear the hesitance in Alex's voice.
"No problem, but I am going first thing tomorrow."
"Where are you staying?"
"At a hotel near here."
"I would have thought somewhere in Rhode Island."
Even if she did shut him out and cause him pain, I hope that Alex's mother is not alone there and that's she's staying with a friend. That's most likely the case. If she really wanted to escape everything, why would she only go one state over? If I were her, I'd be somewhere like Minnesota, or even further.
Regardless, I do think that it's a good thing that Jasmin came here. I know how hard it would be for Alex to do so, howbeit I think that seeing his mother could be good for him. I don't say would, because I can't be sure on something I don't know the answer to, but there is a possibility that it could make him feel better and I think that he should take it. If it doesn't make him feel better, or worse in any way, he has the support to help him get through it. He's not alone in this and he knows that. He knows he has me and my mother and our friends.
If Alex is going to Rhode Island go see Mrs Montgomery tomorrow then, with pleasure, I'm going too.
"Well, I wanted to see you, and also just in case you decided that you did want to come with me. You don't have to agree to come today, but I'll come here in the morning before I go and you can say if you wanna come or not, OK?"
"The fact that you came here all the way from Seattle just to talk to my mom means a lot. Thank you."
"You're my baby cousin. I love you. Of course I want to talk to Auntie Vicky. You're her son, and as I said, she should be supporting you like I know you would be supporting her if you had the chance."
"Would you like to stay here instead of the hotel?"
"I've already paid for a room."
"I'll pay you back however much it cost, and the plane ticket, too."
"You don't have to do that."
"Please. I think a catch up would be good."
He's trying to grasp any family members he has left, I can tell, because he used to say how he didn't really care so much for family and now he's making the effort to 'catch up' with his cousin. And this is nice to see because he deserves the family that he does have left, that care enough about him to travel to the whole other side of the country just to see him and to talk to his mother. To support him.
Jasmin agrees to stay the night and cancels her room at the hotel. We end up going down to the beach where we have lunch and spend the rest of the day. I make sure to check in with Alex and to hold his hand and kiss him and remind him that I'm there in unspoken ways because today has been hard. Hard and emotional and I know that he appreciates what I do, so I continue. My heart warms every time I see him smile and breaks when I see him cry and I want him to know that's it's OK. It's valid. His emotions are what makes him human.
Before I know it, we're home, dinner has been eaten, and I'm helping Jasmin set up the sofa bed while Alex sings to Chloe in effort to get her to grow more sleepy after waking up due to the pain of a tooth growing. He's sat on the floor of the living room after giving her some pain medication and waiting for it to take affect.
"Twinkle twinkle little—" As he sings the line, he rocks her gently from side to side. He pauses, waiting for her to continue, like he's been doing since he started singing the song.
"Staw," she says after a beat, having to think about it even though she already sang the same line not too long ago.
"How I wonder what you—"
"Aw."
"My clever baby. I love you, precious," Alex says, cuddling her to him.
The way he looks at her—love. Love is all I see, and I know how much he loves his daughter. She's the centre of his universe and I don't think he loves anyone as much as he loves her. When she's not here, he talks about her so much and he shows me pictures and videos that Erica sends him, all while his eyes show...love.
"Lub oo," she mutters sleepily, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands.
"Gimme a kiss," Alex says, tapping his cheek. Chloe reaches up and presses a small little kiss to his cheek, smacking her lips after she removes them from his face, which causes us all to laugh.
"Kiss." She moves her face to the side and Alex kisses her cheek too. And her forehead. And her other cheek. And her nose, until she's giggling.
Chloe is soon back in bed and Jasmin's sofa bed is set up, so she gets in it and we wish her a goodnight. Alex tells her that if she needs anything, that our room is the first door you see when you walk down the hallway.
"What's up?" My boyfriend asks as we walk to the bedroom.
"Oh, I'm fine," I say truthfully.
"You don't look fine."
"I am, I'm very fine. It's just that we had sex on that couch and now she's going to sleep on it..." I tell him, sheepishly. I swear to God, ever since we had sex on that couch, which was nearly a month ago now, I have been feeling incredibly awkward whenever someone sits on it. If only they knew...
Alex laughs and holds the door open for me.
"Speaking of sex, can I give your ass some more love now?"
I give him a look, "Both your cousin and daughter are sleeping not too far away."
Alex shrugs, "We'll lock the door and you will have to be quiet."
"Mmhmm," I hum distractedly, "so will you."
Hiiii! Sorry this update took so long, I have recently went back to school and I have so much work because I'm doing my college courses now. I will be writing, definitely, I'm not giving that up any time soon, but not as often anymore, so update will be coming in slower. There's not much I can do about it as I do want to focus on my studies above anything else.