Never Alone

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I hadn't realized I'd actually dozed off until a voice announced over the PA system that lunch was being served in the cafeteria. I lifted my head from Aideen's shoulder and the six of us made our way down the hall to grab some food before our meeting with Dr. Crimm. It was different than it had been the first time we'd cautiously entered the cafeteria on our first day. We were battle-worn now and bonded by what we'd seen and been through together. I understood then what I hadn't that first day; the thing that had separated Dr. Crimm's kids from the others wasn't just our abbreviated length of treatment, it was the depth at which we followed each other into our dark places.

With our trays full we sat together and I felt like I belonged with the five of them more than I'd ever felt like I belonged anywhere else. Marco tossed a grape in the air and Ken captured it in his mouth, flashing it to us between his teeth before laughing and holding his fist up in victory. I felt something nostalgic in my chest, a warm and light fluttering that I recognized as joy and hope. I closed my eyes to focus on it, not for one second taking it for granted, now that I knew how fleeting it could be.

At two we were once again in the treatment room. Dr. Crimm tucked her worn notebook into a bag at the side of her chair. "How are you feeling, Damien?" she asked as we moved the chairs into a circle again.

"Like I was beat up." He rubbed at his left shoulder.

"Your muscles flex hard when you seize. You'll be sore for a few days. Are you up to talking about this morning?" she asked, her tone compassionate.

"Yes. I'd actually like to talk about it." He laughed and shook his head. "That's not usually my thing, but I want to hear what it was like for everyone else, and—" He paused as he looked at Ken. "—I want to hear more about Ken's experience. I want to know what he thinks about what he saw and felt."

Dr. Crimm smiled. "All right, then. Let's begin." She turned her attention to Ken. "Do you want to get us started?"

Ken adjusted in his chair and cleared his throat. "I knew I was gay when I was eleven years old. I also knew better than to tell anyone about it. My family is a stereotypical Southern Baptist family: we go to church, we watch football, and we worry about what our neighbors will think." Ken's fingers played with the armrest absently. "I don't remember the first time I felt like being gay was wrong, but the message from my father was clear.

"The things you saw were innocent—the toenail painting and shit like that. It had nothing to do with my sexuality, but he was so paranoid about it that he always punished me and shamed me for behavior that wasn't overtly masculine and heterosexual. I had to hide everything from him and the people who knew me. It made it feel wrong, which only fucked with my head worse." Ken dug his fingers through his hair, his frustration clear for us to see.

"It's emotional reasoning again. If it feels wrong, then it is wrong. That's a cognitive distortion. It's not true." Dr. Crimm told him.

"It feels true when you're a boy who likes boys in a town full of people who still want to hurt someone like you. I tried to fight it. I went out with girls—the most popular and the most beautiful. I prayed that God would change me and when that didn't work I stopped believing. Everything I did to try and fix myself so that my dad would accept me, ended up pushing us further apart. I dumped his friends' daughters, I deserted his God, and I couldn't look him in the eye anymore when he talked to me because I had so much shame inside.

"Some days I'd tell myself I was going to be okay. Being gay was not a choice and he could love me for who I was or I'd be fine without him, but then other days the reality of not having my dad's love and acceptance was unbearable." Ken looked up to the ceiling as tears made their way down his face. "I went through a phase where I chose myself over him. I put my happiness first. I met a boy who was like me and we dated in secret. It was the safest way in our town. I told myself one day I'd move and we'd be free to love each other in public. If my dad couldn't love me, this boy would."