What Is Love? (iv)

{ARMANDO}

My father, where do I start?

I tried to be good, I tried to do better. I tried to be the best son he could ever ask for. I tries, I really did, but I got nothing out of him. I did it for him.

"Armando?" The therapist calls me and I shake my head before I look at her, I have zoned out again.

"I did try, and I couldn't get it with him, I don't know how other people do it but when I did try, it was exhausting and hard. My father didn't understand me, he didn't get that I tried. I did what I did but at the end of the day no one saw it, especially him, my father."

"Armando, you are talking in codes and I can't get whatever you are trying to tell me.

"Okay, so my father complains, every time of the day, so long as we are in the same room. I am dead sure he is even complaining about me right now to his friends."

She lifts my head up and takes out her notebook and writes, I used to ask her what she was writing there but sometimes I stopped, whatever it was I don't care.

I continue, "he always tells me, you will come to me and we'll see Armando, why are you always like this. You are wrong, this is bad. There is no day he has ever told me well-done son, hell, I don't remember the last time he saw goodness in me."

I am not sure if the therapist gets what I am telling her and I don't care at the moment, this is what she is going to get out of me, I continue, "not that I want him to tell me each and every day but I want him to tell me like once in a while you know, like a normal parent."

"Have you ever told him how you feel?" The therapist asks and I let out a laugh is she crazy?

Yeah, I'm not a teenager I don't expect to be approved all the time. But I am human and I am his son and I expect to be told bravo once in a while.

I stand up and go to the window, "some people say you can do things on your because you want to do and it's not a must if you are told congratulations but sometimes deep down in our hearts we normally want to hear someone tell us congratulations. Are you getting it?"

I turn around and she nods at me, I turn back at the window and continue, "the congratulations mean a lot, it means your work has been recognized."

I look turn again and look at the book next to her and smile, she has written on it like about three times only, it is not the same as when we had met first, she used to write on it every minute.

I think it is because she is helping me and not because she is working for my father. Time has changed and she stopped going back to my father and I think it is because I started coming to therapy on my own. Nowadays, I look forward to the therapy sessions

"Has he always been like this?" She inquires.

I am thinking of how I can respond to her without me sounding as if I have daddy issues because trust me I have no daddy issues. I don't want her to see me as someone who always wants his father's approval and all that, no, no, no.

I just need approval once in a while.

"Armando." She calls me and when I nod she says, " it's okay you can tell me, what does your dad do and what does he not do?"

Yea, her question is very good and it is the one question I wish came from my father.

The room is quiet for a minute and I am not going to break it. After seeing I am not going to answer her, she comes up with a different question, "Armando apart from your father not appreciating you what has he done? Like something you can genuinely say it is good."

I look out the window and a frown comes to my face, it is so sad that I can't think of anything good that my father has done to me.

"Okay, can we talk about your mother?" She asks after a few minutes have passed with no answer from me.

"I don't want to talk about my mother," I tell her and that is that.

I zone out as I think of how my relationship with my mother is so bad that if I tell the therapist she will definitely tell me to work out any issues with my father and that my mother and I are never going to be okay ever again.

I feel her hand on my shoulder, I turn around and she is smiling, "I…" I start and she places her finger on my lips, she looks at me and I see something in her eyes, something have never seen before, I look at the door and it is locked, I don't even remember locking it.

Did she lock it?

She leans to me and I lean to her, our mouths are almost touching…

*********

"ARMANDOOOOO."

"Arthur?" I look around and I am in my bed. How did I fall asleep?

"What are you doing here? How long have you been here? Stop touching me."

Instead of answering me, Arthur removes his hand from my shoulder and tells me, "were you having a romantic dream?"

I look away and instead of answering him, I ask him again, "what are you doing here?"

"I came a long time ago, you texted me and asked me to go to the kitchen and tell them not to bring you food," Arthur say and I don't believe him, I didn't text him that, I don't remember even falling asleep in the first place.

What just happened?

What kind of a nightmare was that?

Me crying? Seriously my subconscious is crazy and hell no, I don't have daddy and mommy issues and I never will.

"Okay, so you also asked me to prepare so we can go," Arthur tells me and I stand up and the bed is wet, I touch my face and it is dry, have I been crying in my sleep? Why are the covers like this, it is as if I have been wrestling with it.

"Where the hell is my phone?"

"This?" Arthur shows it to me and I yank it out of his hand. I open the messaging app and boom! Messages. Arthur is looking at me smiling, he is really excited about going out with me.

"Hey, why don't you wait for me I am coming."

"Promise?"

"Arthur."

"Okay, I am going," Arthur says and left the room. I drop the phone on the bed and go to the bathroom, I might as well wash out whatever spirit came to me and make me have such a nightmare.