Almost Human

I settled into the familiar armchair, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the cushion as I always did. Angie smiled at me from across the room, her posture relaxed but attentive.

“So,” she began, her voice warm as usual, “how’s this past week been?”

I exhaled, already knowing what I wanted to share. “It’s been… better. I’ve been pushing myself more. Ender and I went out multiple times this week—just around the city, campus. It wasn’t always easy, but I did it.”

Angie nodded, encouraging me with her gaze. “That’s a big step, Seren. It sounds like you’re starting to trust yourself more, letting him accompany you but still taking those risks.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah, I guess. He’s been… helpful. Really steady.”

“Tell me about those outings,” she pressed. “What challenges did you face?”

I shifted in my seat, thinking back to the week. “Well, being around people is still hard, obviously. But I managed. We walked through campus, went to the grocery store. He’s… good at noticing when I’m starting to feel overwhelmed.”

“That’s great,” Angie said, jotting something down. “And how did you handle it without him? Have you tried going out on your own?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. “Not yet. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Angie leaned forward slightly, her gaze kind but firm. “I want to encourage you to walk the campus on your own this week. Even if it’s just a small section—something manageable. I think you’re ready for that step.”

My stomach twisted at the thought, but I nodded. “I’ll… think about it.”

She gave me a reassuring smile before changing the subject. “How’s it been with Ender overall? I imagine things are feeling a bit more natural by now.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s strange how normal it’s become. I even asked him to give me a foot massage the other night—he was good at it too.”

Angie raised her eyebrows, amusement in her eyes. “A foot massage, huh?”

I quickly clarified. “Nothing weird! It was just… relaxing. He’s really good at knowing what I need before I even realize it myself.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Angie said with a knowing nod. “That’s what we were aiming for, right? That sense of trust, of normal, safe touch.”

I blinked, not expecting her to focus on that. “Safe touch?”

She nodded. “Yes, Seren. Simple, non-romantic touches—like a foot massage, or even just resting your hand on someone’s shoulder. It’s important, especially for you. It builds that foundation of comfort and trust with another person. No expectations, just… connection.”

I mulled over her words. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

Angie smiled. “It’s a step in the right direction. Keep allowing those moments—whether it’s Ender giving you a massage or just sitting beside you. Those are the building blocks of feeling safe with people again.”

As Angie’s words sank in, I found myself thinking about other types of touch—ones that felt even more distant. The idea of a man’s hand on my shoulder, even in a casual, harmless way, sent a ripple of unease through me. I fidgeted, twisting my fingers together in my lap.

Angie noticed, her expression softening. “What are you thinking, Seren?”

I hesitated. “I was just… thinking about what you said. Safe touch. I want to be okay with it, but… when I picture something as simple as a guy in class touching my arm to get my attention, it still makes me nervous.”

Angie nodded, her gaze steady. “That’s completely understandable. You’ve had reasons to be cautious around men for a long time, so this discomfort isn’t surprising. But it’s good that you’re aware of it—that’s the first step toward working through it.”

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I guess… I just don’t want to be scared of that forever. I want to be okay with someone—anyone—just touching me like it’s normal. Without flinching.”

“That’s a healthy goal,” Angie said gently. “It might take time, but those small steps you’re taking with Ender are already building that foundation. Remember, it’s about feeling safe first. As you continue to expose yourself to different environments—like campus—it’ll get easier.”

“I hope so,” I muttered, feeling the familiar tension creeping back into my chest.

Angie leaned forward slightly. “Do you want to work on this specifically? We can create strategies for handling those moments, like when someone brushes your arm or shoulder. It’s important that we approach this at your pace, but I believe you’re ready to start imagining those situations.”

I exhaled slowly. “Yeah… I think I’d like that. I know I need to get there eventually.”

Angie smiled, her encouragement subtle but sincere. “We can break it down together, one step at a time.”

Later that evening, as I sat at the table eating dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Angie had said. The idea of normal, casual touch—the kind that could happen without warning in a classroom or on campus—kept swirling in my mind. It wasn’t like I’d be able to avoid it forever.

I glanced over at Ender, who was cleaning up the kitchen with his usual efficiency. The memory of him massaging my feet flashed through my mind, and I realized just how natural it had felt. But that was different, wasn’t it? It wasn’t the same as having a real man touch me. It wasn’t… unpredictable.

Still, Angie’s words about safe touch echoed in my head. Maybe there was something to it.

“Ender,” I said, breaking the silence between us.

He looked up from wiping down the counter, his gaze calm and attentive. “Yes, Seren?”

I hesitated, trying to find the right way to explain. “I was thinking about something Angie said today. About… touch.”

Ender blinked, waiting for me to continue.

“She said that the safe touches between us—the foot massage, you helping me to bed—are important. That they’re helping me get used to normal physical contact again.”

He tilted his head slightly. “It seems logical. You have responded positively to these interactions.”

I nodded, swirling my fork through the last of my food. “Yeah, but… I’m still nervous about it. Like, what if I’m in class and someone touches my arm or shoulder to get my attention? That idea still makes me anxious.”

Ender watched me carefully, his gaze as steady as always. “You fear the unpredictability of such interactions?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, pushing my plate away. “It’s not like I can control who touches me or when it happens. With you, I know what to expect. But with someone else… it feels different.”

Ender considered this for a moment, then spoke. “The goal, then, would be to reduce the unpredictability over time. Gradual exposure, much like our outings, could help familiarize you with these types of interactions.”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I guess. But it’s not just about exposure. I need to feel okay with it, not just tolerate it.”

“That will come with time and practice,” Ender replied, his voice calm. “The more you interact in controlled environments, the more comfortable you may become with less controlled situations.”

I smiled weakly. “You make it sound so easy.”

“I am merely offering a logical progression,” he said, a faint hint of sarcasm in his tone. “However, emotions are far less predictable than algorithms. I can only suggest what seems most efficient.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Yeah, I know. And you’re not wrong. I just… wish it didn’t feel so overwhelming.”

Ender stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on the back of my chair. His touch was light, familiar, and oddly reassuring. “You are progressing well, Seren. You don’t need to rush this. When you’re ready, it will feel more natural.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Ender. I guess I’ll just take it one step at a time.”

Ender’s hand rested lightly on the back of my chair, and I found myself leaning into that small, steady touch. His presence had a way of grounding me, even when my mind felt like it was spinning out of control. As I sat there, the wheels in my head kept turning.

“What if…” I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to voice the thought aloud. “What if we practiced? Like, what if you started… I don’t know… incorporating casual touch throughout the day?”

Ender blinked, processing my suggestion. “You mean, without your explicit request? To simulate the unpredictability of human interactions?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding slowly. “Exactly. But in a way that’s still safe. Like if we’re just hanging out or if you’re passing by. Little things. That way, I can start getting used to it at home first.”

Ender considered this for a moment, his head tilting slightly. “It is a logical progression. Gradual exposure to safe, casual contact would help desensitize your initial anxiety response. I can begin incorporating this into my routines, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

I swallowed, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. “Yeah… I think that might help.”

“Noted,” Ender said calmly. “I will ensure these touches are subtle and within your comfort zone. Should you feel overwhelmed at any point, you can inform me, and I will adjust.”

I smiled, feeling oddly lighter. “Thanks, Ender.”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice calm as ever. Then, with a faint glimmer of humor, he added, “I’ll avoid the neck, as previously discussed.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Please do.”