I’m still deep in my introspective thoughts, lounging, as always, in my favourite chair, when Dad is the first to arrive home. It’s quite unusual for all of them to be out of the house on the same day, but soon enough I’ll be joining them and our times together will be less frequent. Sam is spending more time than ever with Stacey and I’m sure they will move into a place together before much longer.

“Hey son,” Dad turns and takes the seat next to me. “You seemed to be miles away. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes Dad, everything is fine. I was just lost in my own thoughts. It seems to happen quite a lot lately. I might mention it to Paul during my next session tomorrow.”

“Paul? Oh, your therapist.”

“Yeah, he thinks the treatments might start after our next session. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good. You’ve been very patient, waiting for Nexima-based treatment. I’m glad you feel positive about it. It has been painful to see you suffer because we felt it was the best way forward.”

“No, don’t have any regrets. I might have been shaped by my anxiety, but I’m not going to let it define me.”

“Good for you. Mum told me about the teaching. She’s right. It fits you perfectly. I’m proud of you for reaching out and acting on it.”

“Yes, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure it is the right path for me. Mum told me she needed to be pointed in the right direction when she was my age.”

“Yes, I always knew I wanted to work in finance, but your mother was really uncertain. It worked out well for her in the end.”

We sit in silence for a few moments, but Dad clearly has more to say. We don’t talk very often – man to man – and it is nice to have him to myself for a few minutes.

“I was wondering,” he asks after a few more moments of silence. “Should I have made more of a big deal when you told us about Peter? Were you hoping for a big explosion of gay pride or anything?”

“No, oh my God, no!”

“That’s a point for me then.”

“Yes Dad. Your reactions, all of you, they were perfect. I just wanted to say it and then move on and you did that so smoothly that you never even missed a beat.”

“And how are things going, with Peter?”

“Slowly, but very well. Mum told you I might be aromantic?”

“Yes, actually, I also knew a guy at school who was. He was straight, but completely aromatic. He seemed very happy to be by himself though. I think you’re different. You might well find love eventually and it will be deeper than the love many people find.”

“You may be right. I know I already like Peter and feel that it’s a pool of bottomless depth that I’m only on the surface of.”

“Wow, you should be a poet, not a history teacher. You have a way with words that I could never match. When are you going to bring him to meet us?”

“Erm… Isn’t that a big step?”

“What, you don’t like him enough to let us meet him?”

“Well, I do, but it’s one of those milestones, bringing your boyfriend home to meet the parents.”

“Look it’s the 2090s. We’re not going to give him a hard time about his prospects or his intentions. We’re just curious about the boy who has managed to turn your head.”

“Was it that unlikely to happen then? Someone turning my head?”

“I think so. Peter must be really special. Well, either that or incredibly cute.”

“Hmm… He might be both actually!”

“All the more reason to invite him to supper. You can pick a day when Sam’s with Stacey if that makes you more comfortable. He won’t be able to resist teasing you if he’s here as well.”

“Okay, I’ll invite him when we go for our workout on Saturday.”

“Workout?”

“Oh, the first time we went walking, I didn’t want to call it a date. We settled on calling it a workout and he’s been making the walks longer and harder each week.”

“Right. Let us know what he decides and we’ll sort out a night to keep free.”

“Thanks Dad. It’s been nice to catch up.”

“Yes, son, it has. Now, I’d better do some kitchen prep or your mother will kill me.”

“Do you need any help. I’ve been sitting with my own thoughts for long enough.”

“Sure. You can do the vegetables with me.”

<Nick, voice call from Doctor Taylor.>

<Accept the call please, Nexima.>

“Good morning, Nick. How has your week been so far.”

“Very good, Paul. I have a job lined up and life seems good. I get a few more weeks of doing nothing and it feels odd to be ahead of most of my friends.”

“That’s excellent. May I ask what job? I thought you were very undecided.”

“Yes, I was. I actually spoke to Employment Opportunities and their AI made a totally weird suggestion. I’m going to be a teacher, middle-school History.”

“And the suggestion just seemed to fit?”

“Yes, I’d never even considered teaching. Does the employment AI have access to my medical records?”

“Only to the general stuff, as far as I know. Why do you ask?”

“Well, with my agoraphobia and anxiety, I didn’t think it was something I could do, but apparently the AI did. Do you suppose it took this therapy into consideration when it made the suggestion?”

“I don’t see how it could even consider it. Probably it just matched the job to your general life history and qualifications.”

“We’ll probably never know. AIs are a black box, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Actually, our own AI has given us a couple of points to discuss today, before it can hopefully start some treatment sessions for you.”

“Sure, ask away.”

“Can you tell me what triggers your agoraphobia. Not just the crowds or the locations, but any small details. Think about how your senses make you react.”

“Well, it always just felt like being in any crowd, any noisy or excited crowd would set me off almost immediately. Now that I try and force myself to deal with it, like at the grad party, I think it’s something about a specific noise.”

“Go on.”

“It doesn’t have to be a loud noise, just the sound of people talking can be enough. I can hold a normal conversation with someone, or even with a table full of people and I’ll be fine. It’s only when I hear the chatter of others in the background that I start to lose some degree of control.”

“Yes, Nick, I see.”

“It’s as if my brain can’t tie the sound down to the people around me and it becomes somehow detached. I suddenly start to feel that the voices, the noise, is aimed at me specifically and then my flight reflex starts to kick in.”

“Okay Nick. We’ll switch subjects slightly now. I know that was quite difficult for you.”

“No, I’m fine. I just never put it into words before.”

“I understand. Again, even this conversation is a form of therapy. Voicing your trigger can help immensely.”

“Yes, I can feel that already.”

“Good. Now, what about your general anxiety, do you think that has a certain trigger?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just get anxious at the thought of meeting new people, visiting new places or even being placed in new situations. It is mostly when things are new though. I don’t often feel anxious going back to a strange place, even just the second time.”

“Very good Paul. You don’t see any other commonalities then?”

“No, nothing springs to mind. I just get anxious about almost anything new. In many ways, it’s harder to deal with than the agoraphobia. I can avoid crowds; I can’t really avoid new situations.”

“Yes, I can see how this could be a debilitating problem. We’re almost at the end of our time today. Just bear with me for a moment.”

“Sure Paul.”

“Right, I’ve just checked with the AI. It feels confident enough to try a couple of treatments before our next session. Will you be okay to agree to that, out loud so the AI knows it can proceed?”

“Yes, I’m happy to proceed with the treatments.”

“Good. The AI has confirmed your permission. We’ll talk again next week at the same time and discuss any changes you might experience.”

“Will it affect me that quickly?”

“Yes, it might. Have a good week and don’t worry or even think about the treatments. As I mentioned before, you won’t know when they happen, except perhaps for the dreams.”

“Thank you, Paul. Bye for now.”

“Good day Nick.”