Coming Home [Completed]

Ch. 3: The World Leaves a Bitter Taste

Charlie's latest therapy session began a lot like his first, with him sitting in complete silence and contempt for the situation. It was June now and his mother had forced him back to Susan's warmly-decorated office, nearly a year since his last session. He sat on her couch with his arms crossed and putting on a display much like a five-year-old would when forced to do something they wouldn't want to.

Susan treated this intransigence exactly the same as she had when he put on a similar display at their first two sessions. She didn't negotiate with terrorists or in her case entitled suburban teenagers refusing treatment. She was getting paid for the hour no matter what and there was no sense trying to force any breakthroughs when a patient was unwilling to engage.

The first time around it took until the third session and two-and-a-half hours of silence before Charlie started opening up little by little. If Susan was a gambler and the over/under was an hour, she'd take the under this time.

Much like a year ago, Charlie had been forced to Susan's office by his mother. A months-long depressive state had been the impetus last year. This year, the incitement was more acute: he'd shown up drunk to his last final at Saint Sebastian; not just hungover, he actually got drunk before a 10 AM final. He'd still managed to get an A, which he thought would assuage any of his mother's concerns. It did not.

So, here he was, fulfilling one of two components to a deal with his mother that would prevent him from being sent to live with his father or military school for his senior year. He knew the former threat was largely empty, but the former carried some weight when his retired colonel grandfather ran one in New York. The other part of the deal was that he'd give up drinking for the entire summer. He was fulfilling both, albeit very reluctantly.

As the clock rounded the twenty-minute mark, Charlie began thinking that actually talking about what he's been going through lately might actually be worthwhile, even if doing so would be to attempt he was wrong. After much debate, he finally disturbed the tranquil quietude of the room.

"I would tell you about what happened, but the truth is I don't really remember the specifics that well."

"That is very common with traumatic brain injuries," Susan empathized, "but that doesn't mean those traumas don't stick with you."

"I know that," Charlie nearly snapped, "really, I've had two concussions before; it's no big deal."

"But, this is the first time one's been inflicted on you purposefully."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"Regardless, it's definitely the first time you've been attacked for being gay?"

"Of course. I wasn't really out until recently."

"Was this episode emblematic of how you were treated by your peers after your disclosure?"

"No, not really. Like, no one really had anything nice to say about it, but that's the problem all my friends just basically acted like I never existed. Weirdly, I felt relieved when Scott did that to me because at least he was acknowledging my existence. I know that sounds messed up."

"Conflicted feelings are common in situations like this. Did you feel betrayed by your former friends?"

"I mean, not really. I guess I always knew that being out would mean the end of my friendship with them. I subsumed this whole big part of me just so I could maintain those friendships. I knew how most of them felt about gay people-—I'd paid very close attention whenever someone expressed a view of this topic over the years—but, part of me deep down always thought that because I was me that they'd look past that in the end."

"Because you thought your close bonds with these people that spanned your collective childhoods would mean more than inherited bigotry?"

Charlie let out a soft chuckle at that, "no, not at all. I know the friends I had were just friends of convenience. I played sports and they played sports or they hung around the athletes, so we all got along. I was under no illusion that any close bond would extend beyond our shared high school years. I'd go off to some urban liberal arts college and live in some metropolis and they'd go to state college and then come back here to raise a family."

"Then, why did you think they wouldn't act the way that they did?" Susan asked, perking up and now seeming genuinely curious, not just asking the question as part of a methodical process.

"I'm not like other gay people, certainly not the ones they're used to laughing at in the halls or on TV. I'm just like them in almost every aspect except I like guys and not girls and I thought that'd be worth something. Shit, I know that's so messed up to say."

Susan took a deep intake of breath and then responded, "while, yes, that is a problematic outlook, you should remember that you were raised in the same environment as your friends so it makes sense that you'd internalize some of those same prejudices."

"Doc, I understand what you're saying, like intellectually, but it still makes me feel like shit."

"Then, change your attitudes. You don't have to participate in a culture of hate if you choose not to and do the work to undo your preconceived ideas."

"I think part of me hates myself for being gay. Like, I know being gay is totally natural and it's not immoral, but there's just this part of me that hates that I have to be this way. Things would be so much easier if I wasn't. I certainly wouldn't have to change schools for my senior year if I wasn't."

"That's one way of looking at it," Susan tutted, skeptically.

"You don't agree?"

"You're changing from a school where your peers are openly hostile to an unchangeable part of yourself to a new school with a much more welcoming environment. You were at one of the two best schools in the county and now you're at the other. And, better yet, there you can openly be your true self."

"I still will have no friends."

"Now, forgive me if this sounds rude, but did you have any friends left at Saint Sebastian?"

Charlie heaved over he laughed so hard at Susan's delicately-put read of his current social status. When she saw Charlie laughing, she started laughing too.

When they finally calmed down, they were nearing the end of the hour, but Susan still had one more thing she wanted to address with Charlie.

"So, what brought about the blonde hair?"

"Coming out, I suppose. I did it the day after it happened and I just thought if I'm going to be out I might as well do what I please and stop worrying what other people think."

"Charlie, I just want you to understand that you may have these pretensions of being 'better' or whatever than other gay people because you present at more masculine, but I mean, is that really a fair assessment when you're here in my office with dyed hair and a Lady Gaga t-shirt. Honey, I hate to tell you this, but you're really not fooling anyone."

Charlie's face fell at that and suddenly he was reevaluating his whole self-image.