Kasper's Prince Charming

Chapter 21 - Kasper & The Therapist

"And what happens when you cry in front of the Hamad family?" The psychiatrist asked me.

Mr. Hamad had filled him in on the situation with my parents. He asked all about my childhood, my family, my dad. I kept waiting for him to judge me or tell me what to do to feel better, but he didn't. He just listened, a lot.

"I keep crying around them. I feel like all I do is bring them my problems," I'd said.

"You keep bringing up crying. What's so bad about crying? Do you feel that's something you shouldn't do?" He'd asked.

"I'm not a crybaby. I haven't done that since I was a little kid, but I keep crying with the Hamad family," I'd told him.

"What did your birth family do when you cried? How did they react?" He'd asked.

"Told me to stop, said boys don't do that. My dad would either get mad at me or make fun of me... call me a baby or something... We didn't do that stuff," I'd said.

"How did that make you feel?" He'd asked.

"Bad, you know... I was always weird to them. like..." I trailed off trying to think.

"Like you didn't belong with them?" He suggested.

"Yeah... I'd go hide in my closet and get it together..." I went silent and stared out his window. 

His office overlooked the ocean. 

It wasn't an ocean though. 

Amir had corrected me on that this morning when he drove me along the coast to see the doctor.

"It's so beautiful. The water here is clearer than in California. What ocean is it?" I asked.

"It's a gulf, Kasper, not an ocean. The Gulf of Arabia... Persian Gulf is what Americans call it. You can't see it from this far away, but that's Iran on the other side of the water." He pointed off in the blue horizon.

"So this is Arabia, but where's Persian?" I asked. 

He laughed.

"Persian is a people. Iran is the country. We've gone on vacation there, to Kish. It's an island, nice beaches... Didn't you learn geography in school?" He asked and put his hand on my leg.

"Kasper!" The psychiatrist said and woke me out of my recollection.

"Sorry... what, sir?" I asked.

"I asked what happens when you cry in front of the Hamad family. What do they do?" he asked me and wrote something in his notes.

"They hug me... try to cheer me up... tell me it's ok to cry... tell me they'll be there for me," I answered and shifted in the oversized chair with high arms and a pinstriped design.

"How does that feel to you?" he asked.

"Safe... They don't have any hate in them. They let me be myself and not so hard all the time... Like they really care about me... Almost like I'm their youngest child... I don't know why, but they like me and want me around. I don't get why they want to deal with my messes. Everything I do just causes problems for them and..." I started to elaborate, but he put a hand up.

"Let's back up. Your first feeling was 'safe.' Can you sit with that for a moment? You feel safe with them. You have food, a bed, and people who care about you." he said. 

I thought about that.

"Safe. you're right. I belong with them. They make me feel like I can just be a kid, do stupid stuff I never got to do when I was young. It was kind of weird at first, but I should just go with it, right? Just enjoy being their child. Just have fun and be a good boy for them," I nodded happily.