Chapter 32
Theo
“So how have things been recently? I was sorry to hear you cancelled your appointment last week. The last time we saw each other, you were about to go on a trip with your boyfriend, correct?”
Maggie’s calm tone and warm smile should have been comforting, but it only made my annoyance flare.
I hadn’t been prepared for how quickly my mood would nosedive after Port Aransas, and I wasn’t handling it as well as I should have, hence the cancellation last Wednesday.
Dawson hadn’t been happy about that one, but oh well.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Almost three weeks ago.”
“You sound a bit agitated. Did the trip not go as you had hoped?”
“No, it was incredible. It was better than I had imagined it would be. I wish we had never left,” I mumbled.
Maggie hummed sympathetically, jotting down a quick note before regarding me with a knowing gaze. “I take it some problems arose once you came home then.”
“You could say that,” I scoffed, remembering how things had started to slide downhill within a few days of us returning. When I didn’t elaborate, Maggie stayed silent and watched me with that open, nonjudgmental expression that always had me spilling my guts.
“I just…I know you warned me that I might crash out some when I got back, but I didn’t think I’d get so fucked up in the head,” I confessed quietly.
“How so?”
“The first few days back weren’t so bad.
It sucked going back to being buried in homework and having to play second fiddle to Dawson’s football stuff.
I mean, I don’t blame him at all because that’s his life right now and after this season, he’ll be done.
But it was really hard to go from having him all to myself for this one, perfect weekend to barely seeing him again.
It’s somehow even harder now than it was before. ”
“That’s understandable. Why do you feel it’s harder this time?”
I didn’t want to admit to her what I was feeling.
While I liked Maggie and felt comfortable enough talking with her, there was still that inherent distrust in telling her too much about what went on in my head.
That constant fear that if I said the wrong thing, she’d shove me in a mental hospital and I’d lose everything I’d worked so hard to get back.
“I’m not sure,” I lied, hoping she didn’t press the issue. I squirmed under her scrutinizing glare.
“How would you describe your overall mood the last couple of weeks?”
Fucking abysmal.
“Not great, but not too bad.”
“Mmm…and have you had any suicidal thoughts since the last time we met?”
Yes, and they’re growing loud enough to fucking terrify me…
“Not really.”
She squinted at me as though trying to see through the curtain of lies I was hiding behind. It took everything in me to hold her gaze and will her not to see the truth. I’d give it to Dawson…he’s who I promised it to anyway.
“Theo, remember when I told you that therapy only works if you want it to work and you’re willing to be open and honest with yourself?”
The words were spoken softly and without accusation, but I could hear the underlying warning in her tone.
“Yeah, why?”
She shrugged daintily, her lips quirking up in a sweet smile. “I just thought you could use the reminder. Have you thought more about seeing the psychiatrist I recommended?”
I bit back the angry reply that wanted to come out. We’d been having this particular discussion for the last three sessions after I’d detailed my horrible experiences with rehab and my medication.
“Still not sure about that,” I said.
Maggie let out a deep sigh and her brows wrinkled. For the first time, she seemed frustrated with me. She was always so even-keeled when we talked, but I could tell my stubbornness was getting to her.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but I honestly think you should get reevaluated for new medication.
You told me you’ve been very inconsistent with taking the Lithium the last few years and its efficacy declines each time you go off of it.
When you’re not stable in taking it, it doesn’t work as well as it should.
Seeing a psychiatrist—a new one that you have chosen and trust, not your mother—could give you some answers and better options than you were given in the past.”
I weighed her suggestion and I understood why she thought it might help, but I didn’t want to go through that again.
It got me nowhere last time and I was so fucking sick of taking meds just to fucking get by.
This was why I felt so goddamn hopeless.
I would never be able to have a normal life.
I’d be constantly on guard, constantly medicated, constantly worrying that I’d finally be pulled so far down into that abyss that there would be no saving me.
I didn’t want to fucking be like this anymore.
“I’ll think about it,” I told her. Another lie.
She didn’t seem to believe me, but thankfully she moved onto other topics and we wrapped up the session forty minutes later. I got in my car to head back to my apartment and saw a text from Dawson waiting for me. I was relieved when my heart gave a little flutter at seeing his name.
At least I haven’t gone completely numb yet…
MERCURY
Hey baby, are you out of therapy yet?
ME
Just got out. You coming over?
MERCURY
Yeah, I’ve got a couple hours before practice. Want me to bring tacos?
ME
I drove home with a million razor-edged thoughts flying through my brain, each one more cutting than the last. I’d been honest with Dawson about feeling more down lately, and even though I knew he was trying not to, he worried more each time we saw each other.
I fucking despised myself for feeling irritated with him when he asked questions or tried to cheer me up, mostly because I knew it wouldn’t work.
It was like the last bits of happiness I had in my soul were wrung out on that beach and all that was left were the dregs of my own humanity.
I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I felt angry and hopeless, if I even felt anything at all.
And that was the real truth I couldn’t share with Maggie.
It was harder to be without Dawson now because I was so fucking scared that not even he had the power to pull me out of this, that there was no way for him to help me keep my head above the water this time.
I walked in my door and threw my keys on the coffee table.
I barely had time to change into comfy clothes before I heard the front lock disengage and came out of my room to see Dawson waltz in, a brown paper bag tucked in the crook of his arm.
He gave me that dazzling smile of his and I wanted to cry at the lack of reaction my body had.
His smile had never failed to unleash butterflies in my stomach, but it was yet another thing this goddamn disease had stolen from me.
His face fell when I could barely muster a smile in return and fuck, I hated myself so damn much in that moment. I hated disappointing him, but that’s all I was good for. All I’d ever be.
“Hey baby, how did it go with Maggie?” he asked cheerily, attempting to brush off the hurt that I saw in his eyes.
“It was good. Same old, same old.”
“Oh. Good then,” he replied, avoiding my gaze while he laid out the food for us.
We started to dig in, but the food was bland and went down like mush.
Considering it was one of our favorite places for Tex-Mex, it meant that I was the problem.
Yet another source of pleasure robbed by this fucking disease.
“How have your classes been lately?” Dawson asked between bites.
“They’re alright.”
“I mean, are you able to keep up with the coursework? Are your grades still okay? You know if you need any help, I can tutor you or see if any of our friends have old class notes they could share.”
I understood logically that he was trying to help during an obvious rough patch. Unfortunately, my irritation still simmered and I barely bit back my retort. I sucked in a calming breath and reminded myself that he loved me and didn’t deserve my shit.
“I appreciate it, babe, but I’ve got it. All under control. Promise.”
Eh, mostly…mostly still counts.
In truth, I was struggling to maintain focus in my classes and my grades were gradually slipping. I was lucky that academics had never been overly difficult for me, so I was faring better than I likely had a right to, but it only made the slow decline that much harder to stomach.
Dawson seemed mollified by my answer and moved onto other mind-numbing topics until he came back full circle.
“By the way, did you ask Maggie about doing a virtual session the week of Thanksgiving? I don’t want you to have to miss another one while we’re back home.”
“Uh, no. I forgot,” I muttered. I could sense his frustration rising with mine, but I had just gotten out of therapy. I didn’t want to keep talking about it.
“Just…try to remember to ask her next week, okay? It’s coming up fast,” he sighed.
“Sure, Dad.” The sardonic reply was nothing more than a whisper, but I knew he heard it when he tensed beside me. “It’s not like we’ll even have much time together, so what else is there for me to do?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ll be too busy with your family since they’ll want all your time. And it’s also just more nights I’ll have to spend alone…”
Dawson’s brow furrowed and he huffed out a loud breath, dropping his taco on his plate.
“Where the hell did that come from? Mom has already asked me if you’re going to be staying with us since your dad will be out of town, so we’ll be together almost the entire week.
The only time we won’t have is on Friday because of my game, but I’ll be back later that night. ”
I grumbled under my breath, focusing on my food rather than admit he was right. He softened and leaned into my space, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke.
“And I don’t know what crazy ideas you’ve got in that gorgeous head of yours, but there is no way I’d let you sleep alone that week, even if your dad was home.
I’d just climb in through your window like old times and crawl into your bed every single night so you could fuck me hard and fill me with that hot cum of yours just like I need. ”
He sucked at the diamond stud on my earlobe seductively and his hand coasted into my lap, fondling my limp cock through my sweats.
I closed my eyes and tried to surrender to the sensation, willing my body to respond to him like it always had…
but it was useless. It didn’t matter that I loved him and wanted him more than the air in my lungs.
My mind was frighteningly numb and my body followed suit.
Dawson’s hand faltered when he noticed I wasn’t getting hard, and he leaned back to look at me.
The rejection that streaked across his face cracked my heart down the middle and I caressed his cheek before pressing my lips to his.
I kissed him with every ounce of love and devotion I had for him, but even I could tell it was different.
“Tell me what’s wrong, baby,” he pleaded.
“Nothing is—” I stopped before the lie could slip out. “It’s just been hard to…get in the mood lately. I told you things have been off with me.”
“Is it me? Did I do something—”
“It’s not you, Dawson. It’s me and my fucked up brain, ok?” I snapped and instantly wished I could tear my own tongue out. Dawson paled and put some distance between us.
“I’m sorry, that was a stupid question to ask. I didn’t mean…I’m not trying to make it about me, I swear. I only meant…”
Hearing him stammer and fidget with nerves made me want to rip my hair out and beg God to fix me already so I would stop hurting this perfect, sweet man who didn’t deserve any of my shit.
But that didn’t stop the deluge of frustration and anger at myself from coming out and finding the next easiest target.
“What do you want me to say?” I gritted out.
“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to and I’m still a shitty, broken mess.
It’s not anything you did or haven’t done, it’s just me.
Fuck, I haven’t even wanted to masturbate in three weeks because the only thing I seem to feel anymore is exhaustion.
I’m too tired to do anything but wake up each morning and try to function like a regular person, but I’m not. ”
“Theo, if that’s true, then why haven’t you talked to the psychiatrist that Maggie recommended? Maybe she can help—”
“Help do what, Dawson?” I practically shouted.
“Nothing really helps! I’ve been lucky to get these small breaks of actual happiness with you between all the shit, but it never lasts.
Lithium is supposed to be the big, shiny gold standard in treating bipolarism or whatever the fuck, so what could she give me that would work better?
And what if it only makes things worse? I don’t want to take that chance… not when it can cost me you.”
Dawson reeled back as if I’d struck him, but I couldn’t force my body to go to him. An aching sadness simmered in my chest, yet no tears came. It was like there was a barrier keeping me from feeling everything I was supposed to feel.
Dawson cautiously came around to me, leaving only inches between us that I desperately wanted to erase, but I didn’t deserve it.
I didn’t deserve to seek comfort in his embrace or have him soothe my frazzled nerves.
But when his strong hands gently framed my face, I leaned into his touch.
His love was my gravity, his touch all that kept me grounded to the earth.
“Is that what you really think? That there is any chance in Hell that you could lose me?”
His broken whisper cut into my skin and I bled guilt and regret onto the floor between us.
“You shouldn’t have to put up with all this just to love me,” I choked out. “It’s too much. I’m too much…”
“It’s not a chore to love you, Theo,” he said adamantly.
“I know you think your illness will change how I feel about you, but I swear that will never happen. I will find every way there is to love you for every good and bad day, every high and every low. I will be with you through it all unconditionally, loving you as I always have. You are never too much for me because I can never get enough of you.”
I crashed into him, taking his lips with a fervor that pulled a needy moan from his throat. I inhaled it like it was the antidote to all the poison within me, wishing it could cure me. But luck had never been on my side in this battle.
Dawson pulled away and gave me a hopeful smile at the same time all the hope I carried died away.
Despite every promise I made him, I couldn’t protect Dawson from being the collateral damage of my own demons.
If I didn’t do something soon, it wouldn’t matter how much he loved me.
I would sink too far under the surface where even he couldn’t follow.