EPILOGUE

3 years stable

We were sitting under the weeping willow at River Square Park watching the water when Hayden told me the name he had in mind for his summer camp.

He was stressed out because there were seventy kids signed up already, and he still couldn't decide on a name.

I'd misunderstood, responding with: "yes, of course, because you are a hero."

He said, "No, Levi. They are the heroes. Those teenagers who will come to Hayden's Heroes Summer Camp are the heroes. My heroes because they're so strong and brave."

"Ohh," I said. "Better than Batman, of course."

He kissed me, fed me a piece of his hotdog, and said, "Of course. And Batman would agree."

I nodded, feeling light in my heart and free in my soul. I was low that day, but my lows, these days, are not debilitating. I manage them well. Am I always on alert for a crash or a climb into mania? Of course. Hayden is too. That never goes away. But we're making it through. Every day, we promise ourselves and each other: one more day.

Officially, I've been stable for three years. And for three years, Hayden and I have been hosts to seventy teenage kids who come from homes where a loved one or a friend lives with Bipolar Disorder.

Additionally, as part of our program, we have family members – especially teenagers – living with Bipolar Disorder, who attend group sessions and activities.

Hayden handles Nicholas's philanthropic work like a natural and together, we manage Hayden's Heroes Summer Camp. He always thinks he's doing a bad job. I try to convince him otherwise, telling him that he only feels that way because he's so shy in public.

Now, as I prepare for the art workshop I give to the kids during the summer, I watch my husband in the class across from mine as he wraps up his session with them. He gives these talks at every camp and the kids love him.

Hayden doesn't talk about Nicholas during his sessions – he still upholds Nicholas's need to remain private about his struggles – but he talks about us. Our struggles. Our triumphs. He teaches the kids how to create and maintain boundaries with loved ones who are destructive and don't want to stay stable. Also, how to encourage and be supportive of their loved ones who do.

Mostly, the summer camp is to provide a safe place for young people to find some reprieve from the harsh realities of their world. We have professionals who help guide and support them. It's honorable work and I'm pleased to be a part of it.

Hayden high-fives some of the kids as they exit the class but most of them are barreling past him. It's lunch time and teenagers care for little else if food is involved. The area is vacated in under ten seconds.

Hayden makes his way over to me. It'll never fail to astonish me that I get to wake up every day and call him mine.

He gives me a brilliant, sexy grin, but I'm not fooled. We passed three full years stable a few weeks ago. It was an important milestone, and a particularly hard one for Hayden. He's kept a close eye on me. Sometimes, he hovers, but I understand his fears. Fears can be contained but they never really go away. Not for those like us, who know what it is to be enslaved by pain.

"I'm okay," I whisper against his lips when he steps into my classroom.

He presses his lips to mine. "You're okay."

And I am. We are.

***