Chapter 8

Eight

Ezra

December 16, 2018

H ey Millsy.

I’m so sorry.

I love you.

I miss you more than words can even convey. I miss you so much, sometimes I think I can’t keep breathing without you.

I’m in here again. At Sheppard Pratt.

It’s so crazy how it all went down, but my mom’s crazy. When Dad called her to tell her I’m gay and they should support me and be proud, he didn’t know what trouble it would kick off.

As soon as Mom found out that I’ve been ‘living the gay lifestyle’ in Fairplay, she went ballistic. She’s a zealot, and there’s nothing worse to her than a gay son.

She called and told me if I don’t come back to Sheppard Pratt and get back on psych meds to “control those urges”- she’ll tell the police…this secret I have. It’s a secret nobody can ever know. Not even you.

I made Mom swear she wouldn’t tell Dad that I’m here again. I know you’ve gotta be upset and confused, but if you knew I was in here, I’m pretty sure you’d be more upset.

I don’t like to think about you being worried or scared for me. I think if you’re just pissed off, that might be better.

The second I’m done with this shit to appease my mom and protect my secret, I’ll find a way to get back to you, and I promise I’ll earn your forgiveness. It should only be about a month, if things go as planned.

I got a tattoo as I was driving up to Mom’s, the day I left. I had the idea when you drew on me that day before I left. I already knew I was going to be leaving. I asked you to re-draw the angel and the infinity symbol so I could try to take something of you with me. Not just a material thing, but something of yours that could be a part of me.

I ended up not having that much cash, so I just got the infinity symbol you drew. Even though I’m not doing ok right now, it still brings me peace. I touch it all the time.

I don’t know if I’ll send this letter. I don’t know if I can.

I had three sessions of ECT so far. It’s been fine. Just like last time I was here, at the end of last winter. These people think electrocuting my frontal lobe is the holy grail for ‘treatment resistant bipolar depression’. Which- Mills- I don’t have. That’s the headline. I don’t have psychosis either. I don’t think so, anyway.

I’m pretty sure I’m just fucked up because of Alton and my mom. Nobody here at Sheppard Pratt the first time I was here even know about Paul or Alton. This is just a normal psych hospital. When Mom brought me here last time, it was right after I got out of Alton. I was fucked in the head. She made me promise not to tell them anything about Alton.

Since the people here at Sheppard Pratt didn’t know what I had come from- at Alton- they just thought I was nuts. Nothing that they did would help me, because I guess I had ptsd, not depression- so I ended up with electroshock therapy. I was still a fucked up wreck after I got out of here last time.

Modern medicine can’t fix everything. But you can, Miller. When I was with you, I barely even feel bad, except nightmares.

I feel shitty that I didn’t tell you everything about my past. Part of me is also glad you don’t know. I don’t want you to know how messed up I am. I don’t want to hurt you with it.

It would hurt you. We both know how fucking nice you are. You’re the best thing. I hate to think about you, because it makes me miss you so much, but I can’t help it.

They say ECT can make your memories blurry sometimes, but it didn’t happen to me last time I was in here. Also, this shit with us is fire-proof. Seizure-proof.

Seizures… I hope you’re okay.

I love you. I don’t even like being in love. It scares me. But I love you. So much I could never say no to it.

My mom thinks I’m on board with “getting in a better head space” here at Sheppard Pratt. Using their psych meds to not feel gay anymore- or whatever crazy bullshit she thinks.

In case you’re wondering- Mom called me that day we went to your dad’s house. I knew right away that I was fucked, as soon as she told me Dad told her I was gay and happy in a relationship. She said I had to come back home to her and “address the issue”. Like it’s a drug problem or something.

You know what I did, Miller?

I told her- on the phone, on the roof outside your room- that I wouldn’t. That I was staying with Carl. I told her everything about us (except who you are). That I found someone I love and that Dad supports me. That I’m gayer than the fucking world and she can suck it. Okay- I didn’t say that exactly.

I didn’t think my mom could surprise me. Not at this point. But she did. She said if I didn’t come back to her house, go back to Sheppard Pratt, she would tell the police that I’m unstable. And she’d tell them what happened with Paul.

I did something terrible one time, Millsy. But I did it because I had to. I guess you could call it self-defense. It’s something that, if people found out, it would ruin my life. Like, really ruin it. And my mom knows that. That’s why she used it as a threat. That’s why it worked.

One day I’ll tell you about all that shit. One day in the future- maybe one night I can get you drunk, or feed you Xanax. So it won’t upset you.

I think it would really hurt to hear it. If you still love me.

You might not love me now.

I love you, though. So much. I need you. I can’t sleep without you. I can’t even say how much I hate it here. They’ve got me on so many different meds- just because I can’t handle being back in this place. They don’t know I’m gay or about Alton, that my mom is making me come here because she’s crazy. They think I’m depressed. The whole thing is a lie, and it makes me feel like I’m suffocating.

Everything about being in a hospital reminds me of Alton. I had to stay in that white room for so long. One of the clinic rooms.

I’m glad you can’t read this note.

I don’t like it here, Mills.

Sometimes I get scared.

Here, they think I have psychosis. Something like that.

But I’m just scared without you.

I’m so scared without you. Nothing ever helps. I’m just hardwired now to go crazy at hospitals. I try to calm down, but I can’t.

I want to call my dad. I want to ask how you are.

Josh, I want to call you. I love you, Josh Miller.

Mom said all I have to do here is get back on antidepressants so I won’t ‘feel those urges’ and do a booster round of ECT. And then I can come home. To her house, of course.

But it’s okay. It’s only temporary. I’ll get out of there as fast as I can. Anything we need. I can start college early in August, and then we’ll be together. Forever, I promise.

When I’m done with ECT and feeling like myself, I’ll call and write you.

If Mom thinks I don’t want to un-gay myself, my life is over. I won’t just be in trouble with the law, but everyone would find out what happened to me. That I was –

You know.

What happened.

You don’t know, and it’s okay. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m not sending this letter. I’m about to rip it up or hide it. I just need to keep my hands busy. When I’m not holding something, both of them shake from the meds.

I don’t feel good, Miller.

I don’t want to do the ECT again. Having the seizure from the ECT does make me sleepy after- just like you were.

I love you. Please stay safe. Don’t ride bikes and don’t have any seizures. Love me- okay? Can you please still love me? Even if it’s been a while?

I’ll always love you too.

Your Ezra