The penultimate smack in the face for Oswald was being
forced to go to therapy. The ultimate smack in the face was knowing it would
affect his final grade in English if he didn’t. He must have read that email
from Valerie Sand fifteen hundred times, but his fist-tightening anger didn’t
subside any more than the first time. “Who the fuck does she think she is?” he
wondered aloud as he swung his little feet in the computer chair. He took care
not to pound his fists, for they were still healing slowly. He took one last
look at his bruised knuckles and wondered when he would be able to punch the
“Sand bag” again. “Therapy…I don’t fucking need therapy!” he huffed as he got
dressed and exited the dorm.
The little guy still wore his medical boot and still had a
modicum of pain shoot throughout his foot with each step, but the wincing and
limping were minor prices to pay for his recovery. At least the therapist’s
office wouldn’t be too far from here. But even so, it was still his longest
trek due to how many people around him still had those ghostly expressions.
Maybe they needed therapy too. Maybe they were already going to therapy and it
didn’t do diddly-squat. Did they have their grades depend on this too or was
Oswald the odd man out?
Oswald didn’t want to admit it at first, but when he first
arrived at the therapist’s office, he was already comforted by the atmosphere
around him. Harp music to relax his ears, receptionists talking in their best
ASMR voices, paintings on the wall of gorgeous pink sunsets, and not one
stereotypical “cray-cray” person sitting in the waiting room. “Good morning!
How can I help you?” asked one of the receptionists with her sweetest smile.
“My name is Oswald Crow. I was told to come here by my
English teacher Valerie Sand. She might have already scheduled an appointment
for me, but I’m not sure.” Oswald just then figured out how much venom was
oozing from his mouth as he spoke those words. It must have been like talking
to a spitting cobra for this poor young lady behind the desk.
Nonetheless, she typed away at her computer and never once
lost her gentle disposition. “Okay, Oswald, I’ll let Dr. Jealous know you’re
here. Take a seat in the waiting room anywhere you like.”
“Thank you.” The waiting area wasn’t exactly packed to the
brim with traumatized patients, but even so it was hard for Oswald to pick a
seat without getting in someone’s personal space. This was his strategy all
throughout high school and college: pick a seat completely isolated from the
rest of the group. He could’ve sat next to the cute chick texting on her phone.
He could’ve sat next to the fat guy in the Star Wars T-shirt enjoying a bag of
Doritos. He could’ve sat next to the middle aged lady gazing languidly into the
distance. So few options, yet he had to choose. Or did he?
“Oswald Crow?” said a gentle feminine voice, which caused
the little guy to jump a little bit before clutching his pumping chest. “Sorry,
didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Kristen Jealous. I’ll be your therapist today.”
She and Oswald shook hands. “Follow me into my office.”
Oswald couldn’t help but wonder why this lovely woman wasn’t
wearing shoes. In fact, the sweat pants and Mickey Mouse sweatshirt didn’t
exactly scream therapist from the mountaintop. Something was fishy about this
whole setup and it all became clear once Oswald noticed a bed in the center of
the room instead of a stereotypical leather couch. “What’s going on here?”
“Well, when Ms. Sand made your therapy appointment for you,
she figured you could use this specific kind of treatment. Our session is going
to last two hours and it’s going to be cuddle therapy.”
“C…cuddle therapy?”
Placing her soft hand on Oswald’s shoulder, Kristen said,
“Yes. We’re going to cuddle for two hours and try to get you to open up.
There’s one ground rule before we begin. This is a nonsexual activity, so any
perverted comments or actions will result in the termination of this session.
By that same token, the whole purpose of this treatment is to make you as
comfortable as possible. If you don’t like something I’m doing, please let me
know.”
“…C….C…Cuddle therapy?”
Kristen gave a closed-mouth giggle and said, “Don’t worry
about a thing, Oswald. I’ll take good care of you. I know you’re nervous, but
you don’t have to be. I promise you that this will be one hundred-percent safe.
When we’re done, you’ll be nice and relaxed.”
“…O…Okay, um…”
Gently squeezing the back of his neck, Kristen said, “Do
whatever you have to do to get comfortable and I’ll be waiting for you on the
bed.” With a few more pats of the little guy’s shoulders, Dr. Jealous plopped
down on the bed and patted Oswald’s half of the mattress.
Taking a few deep breaths, Oswald removed his T-shirt and
footwear before hobbling to his side of the bed. He surprised himself by how
easy it was to pull his body up without assistance. Maybe he was healing nicely
after all. He rolled on his side with his back facing Dr. Jealous while the
longhaired therapist pressed her body against his and ran her fingernails
through his now spiked hair.
Any nervousness about this process and any ill will Oswald
had towards Valerie Sand melted away when the tingling sensations ran through
his scalp. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, already sinking into the
bed.
“See? There’s nothing wrong with clean physical contact,”
said Kristen while squeezing Oswald’s shoulders and spine. “Now, do you know
why you’re here today?”
“Because my English teacher thinks I’m a fruitcake?”
“Couldn’t be further from the truth. Besides, I don’t like
to use that word to describe my patients. It’s very derogatory.”
Oswald’s face reddened when he said, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can understand your frustration. Your teacher
tells me that you have a hard time letting people into your life, that you
struggle with loneliness, that your loving needs aren’t being met.”
“Am I that obvious?” asked Oswald in a progressively relaxed
voice. “People don’t like to be around me because of who I am and what I look
like. They think I’m some kind of circus sideshow. I’ve even heard stories
about drunken frat boys throwing my kind across bar counters for fun and games.
I’m angry, Dr. Jealous. I don’t let people in because they’ll just stab me in
the fucking heart.”
Transitioning into a waist hug, Kristen said, “While I do
admit there are some guys in this world who think that way about people with
dwarfism, it’s not the whole population. Most people are good to each other.
Most people would look at someone like you and smile their friendliest smile.
You might have to go out of your way to find these kindred spirits, but they
exist and they’re waiting for you.”
“I’ve only found a handful of people on campus who fit that
bill. Even then they don’t have any qualms about leaving my life and letting me
rot.” A single tear rolled down Oswald’s face and Kristen wiped it away with
her finger before working on his shoulders again.
“They leave your life because you don’t pursue them. Truth
is, they’re probably hurting just as badly as you are. They don’t make the
first move because they’re the ones who’re afraid of rejection, not you. I’ve
had many patients come and go who had the exact same attitude towards social
situations as you. They yearn for love of some kind, but they don’t pursue it
because they’re afraid of getting their hearts broken.”
“They’re right to feel that way.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t feel that way about you,” said
Kristen while resting her head against Oswald’s shoulder. “I know it’s my job
to make my patients feel good about themselves, but I wouldn’t have this job in
the first place if I didn’t feel some sort of empathy towards my clients.
That’s kind of a requirement.”
Oswald smiled. “True.”
“You know…on the day you’re able to find a girlfriend, she’s
going to want to cuddle with you a lot. She might even call you her little
teddy bear. It’s not a knock against your dwarfism. It’s a celebration of
cuteness.”
Oswald’s face glowed like a nuclear rod as he did his best
to hide his smile.
Dr. Jealous continued, “I really do believe there’s somebody
out there for you. Someone who you can share opinions with. Someone you can
share moments with. It doesn’t even have to be someone romantic. It could just
be a friend who cares about you. Friends can engage in physical contact too.
That’s what I want you to think of me as: your friend. You can tell me anything
you want.”
“…Anything?”
“Anything you want.”
Oswald didn’t even know where to begin. So many thoughts
swirling his head and this was his one opportunity to get it all off his chest.
It took him a while to come up with a launching point, but when he did, another
tear rolled down his cheek. “I almost became an incel.”
“You what?”
Holding his thumb and forefinger together, he said, “I was
this close to joining Incelbordination. I was lonely and scared. I didn’t think
anybody in this world wanted me, so it only felt right to be a part of this. I
wanted to hurt the world so badly. I wanted them to feel my pain and my agony.
But…I didn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. And now I have nothing to show for it.”
Wiping away more of Oswald’s tears with her fingers, Kristen
said, “You do have something to show for it: wisdom. You’ve seen the worst side
of humanity and you didn’t give in. You almost did as you’ve just said, but you
overcame that. That alone takes courage. You’re a hero, Oswald. You can inspire
people in a positive way if you so chose.”
“How? Nobody will listen to me and anybody that does just
thinks of me as a walking C+.”
“C+ or no C+, you’re still going to graduate from this place
one day. And when you do, all the pain and suffering will be worth it. College
can oftentimes be a depressing experience, but for you, it can be an
opportunity to grow into something greater than yourself. Your teachers don’t
care about the grades you get as much as they care about the person you become
once you leave their classrooms.”
“I somehow doubt that.”
“Doubt is a natural emotion, but not if it gets in the way
of your greatest ambitions. I want you to be happy, Oswald. I want you to make
friends, make love, and be the sweetest teddy bear you can be.”
Oswald’s tears turned into a full-on crying session and
Kristen Jealous was there to hold him every step of the way. Scratching his
back, rubbing his shoulders, playing with his hair, these things made crying a
comfortable part of the process. For the first time in forever, the little guy
felt secure. He felt loved. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of this room
despite the fact that the session was only two hours long. “Why does this have
to last for only two hours?” he sobbed aloud.
“Because I have other clients to see who need my help just
as much as you do. Otherwise…I’d cuddle you for as long as you needed it. This
doesn’t have to be our last session. In fact, I hope to see more of you in the
future…you little teddy bear.”
“I love you.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Sorry…I’m really sorry about that.”
“Wasn’t the first time somebody told me that by accident.
Won’t be the last either. You’re safe in my arms, Oswald. Cry as much as you
want. Heal as much as you need to.”
The rest of the two hour session was spent doing those
things: crying and healing. And it felt good to do that after so many years of
loneliness and isolation.
