The Degradation

Chapter 25

Whitney Houston said: "Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all."

"I will never be able to love myself. I'm not even sure I'll ever be able to accept myself but when Louis looks at me, I feel loved, through his gaze I can learn to tolerate myself. If he loves me it's because there's not only bad in me. I want to be convinced of that." – Harry

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Song: Lifehouse - You and Me

This is the second time I have been allowed to attend his lunch. The first time was yesterday but it wasn't a success, he didn't swallow anything. Not because he didn't want to but because he couldn't. He spent so much time being fed by tube or infusion that it's hard to eat real food again. Both psychologically and physically. But I'm still so proud of him. Since we've talked, three days ago everything has changed. But everyone might not be able to realize it because he still doesn't eat, doesn't talk to anyone but me, and his cooperation with the nurses is as nonexistent as Eleanor's class or Josh's intelligence. But I know that everything has changed in his head, in his mind, I see it in his eyes. The discussion we had, crying together, telling each other everything we had in our hearts was a real click, the trigger for a renewal. We had to open up to each other, tell each other about our worries, tell what we couldn't tell for a long time. So, we could move forward. For the first time, I see in his eyes a real desire to get out, a real one.

But some things take time.

I've never been locked up I don't understand what it's like. When you are deprived of your freedom. I could pretend that I know how it is after coming here every day, but I don't. I'm free, I can come and leave as I please.

The noise of the fork brings me back to reality.

"You can't?"

He shakes his head and tries to sit up, making himself comfortable on the pillows. I take off my shoes and sit down next to him. I bend down a little to look at the contents of the plate on the plastic table again. These tables are so comfortable, by the way, you're lying in bed and the food is right in front of you. I'll have to take it with me unnoticed when Harry comes out of here. It's just like stealing shampoo from a hotel room.

I bend down to look again at the contents of his plastic plate. There's some weird puree with boiled pieces of meat. I'm frowning.

"Eww." I'm picking myself up because I'm supposed to help him, not disgust him even more. I try again but it's not a success. "I don't understand why they bring this to you. This is even worse than group therapy."

He sighs. In the morning, Dr. Stephen asked Harry to attend group therapy. And after a long monologue, Harry just nodded and said minor phrases like "okay" and the like that. I think he just wanted the doctor to shut up as soon as possible because he couldn't stand his presence anymore. Of course, I wouldn't want to talk to the person who tied me to the bed neither.

"Alright," I take the fork, "I'll try it first, just to make sure they don't want to poison you."

The meat is so soft that I cut it with a fork. I chew slowly. I swallow even more slowly and immediately wince.

"So?"

"Remember that omelet we made the night I pushed you into the pool?"

"Yeah."

"This is even worse."

He picks up a fork and tries it too. He chews even slower than me and swallows even slower. He winces too.