The Psychology of Love

The symptoms started 2 years ago. I should have been greater amount careful. My father had had it, so I should’ve known not to drink, not to do everything to further harm my brain. But I’d been careless.

First I started getting insomnia. I wouldn’t sleep for days at a time, popping caffeine pills like candy and frustrating the hell out of Cameron.

Then I started hearing things. I’d be working at my desk, and someone would whisper into my ear. It wasn’t bad at first.

Then the visions started. It got so that I couldn’t look straight at my boss because I was scared of what I would watch in place of his face. When it started happening with Cameron as well I stopped functioning. Cameron would leave for work, waiting me to leave a not many minutes later, like normal, but I would acquire naked and lay in bed all day. I was fired within a week.

Cameron didn’t understand why I wasn’t communicating with him. this chab thought it was ‘coz of my troubles at work.

After about a year of this, I could tell this guy was getting tired. I was continually forgetting to shower, brush my teeth; I couldn’t even properly clothe myself.

I still loved him dearly, but I didn’t know how to get it out anymore. Showing affection became a massive task. he kept begging me to let him take me to the doctor, but every time the subject came up, we’d shriek at every other for hours.

Finally, one day, I was trying to do something for him. I tried cooking him dinner but got lost halfway throughout. I wandered away and left the pot on high. When Cameron came home the stove was on fire and I was sitting on the sofa watching TV.

He called my sister, who we spoke to barely twice a year, and asked her if she knew what was going on. this babe told him about our father and agreed to come up and help take me to a hospital.

The hospital psychologist confirmed what she thought.

I had disorganized schizophrenia.

They had me committed at the closest mental health facility and Cameron came to visit me 3 times a week. My speech had degraded so much that I couldn’t even say his name.

“Dam.” I called him.

He cried every time he left.

Even though I knew he was hurting, his visits were the highlight of my week. He’d come and read Walt Whitman poems to me, laying on my miniature bed with me snuggled up against his side. He’d listen to me chatter about what had happened since the final time this chab had visited, though he probably couldn’t understand everything I was saying. My words came out jumbled, and I couldn’t stay on one topic very long.

Sometimes that guy would cry into my hair during the time that this guy was holding me. I would try to comfort him, but every time I spoke this chab would cry harder.

I had a bad day when that guy came once, that guy started crying and I got frustrated cuz I couldn’t make him feel better like I used to.

I tried to undo his panties but this guy stopped me and told me that we couldn’t do that. I started screaming and threw a lamp against the wall. this guy wrapped his arms around me and held me as I screeched and flailed.

He didn’t come back for two weeks.

When this guy did visit again, I tried to make myself more excellent. I behaved as well as I could and tried to speak as articulately as possible. this chab seemed pleased that I was trying more.

Soon after, the doctors started me on a new drug, and it appeared to be to work. The voices quieted and the visions that the other drugs had dampened went away. My thoughts eventually straightened out and I started functioning by myself.

The first time I had already showered and clothed myself when Cameron came to visit me that guy wrapped me up impossibly constricted in his arms and didn’t let go until this guy had to leave.

The next time, we talked. this guy asked me questions and I was able to properly answer him out of getting off topic. he started talking about bringing me home.

First we tried weekend trips. that guy picked me on Friday after this chab got off work and we went straight home. that guy cooked me dinner and we watched Airplane!, one of my beloved clips. We kissed a little, but nothing else happened. this chab brought me back Sunday afternoon.

Five more weekends like this went by. One night I lastly scraped up the courage to stiltedly ask him if he didn’t crave me anymore. We were lying in bed, and that guy turned me to face him. this chab stroked my face and told me he loved me greater amount than ever. this chab was just worried that I might not be ready.

I told him that if this guy didn’t make love to me right then, I didn’t desire to come home the next weekend.

It was the first time we had had sex in over a year.

It was as amazing as all of our other times smashed together into one. this chab was so gentle with me, and I tried to give as much back to him as I could. I wanted him to realize that I still needed him, not just ‘cuz of my disease, but cuz I loved him.

After a hardly any more months of weekend trips, the doctors said that my schizophrenia was now residual and that if Cameron was comfortable, this guy could take me home.

I still had to meet with a shrink twice a week, but we were happy.

The drugs made me tired and twitchy and I had permanent dry mouth, but I was determined to stay on them for Cameron.

Eventually I was able to get a job as a clerk at a grocery store down the street. It wasn’t much, but Cameron was so proud of me.

Every day he showered me with love and chased my shadows further into the recesses of my mind.

He was healing me.

***

Cameron died final week.

He was hit by a truck on his way home from work. The police discovered flowers and a card addressed to me on the passenger seat.

It said;

Dear Eli,

I will always love u. No matter how disorganized or scattered you get, I’ll always be there to hold u. The entire time u were hospitalized, I kept reading about the people who were at no time able to recover. I was so scared. Sometimes I called in sick to work, I missed u so much. I would sit in the living room just holding your picture. But each time I went to see you, I could see the determination in your eyes. I can still watch it every day. Your strength said me that we could do it. We would make it through, together. I know it’s hard, I know sometimes u execrate taking your pills, but you do it anyway. You’re stronger than I could ever hope to be. Keep being the awesome dude you’ve always been. I love u.

cheerful Anniversary,

Cameron.

I’m still taking my pills. Eventually, when the day comes that I receive to be with him again, I want to be able to tell him that I stayed strong.