34: Le Bleu

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Two days later, it was Wednesday. Harry was home using the hand vacuum on the living room couch while Benjamin played outside in the backyard. Then the doorbell rang. After turning off the vacuum, he went to check the peephole to see who it was. It was Niall, so he happily opened the door.

"Good afternoon."

But Niall didn't seem as perky as Harry did. In fact he seemed like something was on his mind.

"Are you alright? What's the matter?"

"Today was family therapist day." He said as he sat down on the couch.

Harry gasped.

"Oh right. Yeah. How did it go?"

He sat down, staring into space.

"I'm... confused."

"That's understandable. It's still the beginning of your therapy sessions. You still need time."

"No, Harry. You don't get it. Our therapist asked us to tell her our honest feelings for how we each feel about each family member in a single short sentence. I went first. I said I hate my parents. My dad said he loved my mother and me. My mom said she loved me and dad."

"Okay."

"But then she asked us how often we tell each other these exact things. We all said it was often, which was true. But then she told us to look each other right in the eyes and tell each other exactly what we told her. My parents did. To me and each other. But me, I..."

He started to cry.

"I couln't do it, Harry. I couldn't say it. And it made realize that I don't look them right in the eyes and say it. I never do. It's always right before I lock myself in a room or as I'm walking out the door to leave home a few days at a time."

"And did your therapist tell you what it meant?"

"She asked me questions. She asked if I thought a food dish was delicious, would I hesitate to compliment the cook if they were sitting right next to me? Then she asked if I tried making a new dish for the first time and it turned out to be disgusting, would I not spit it out immediately? The answers were obvious of course.

"Then she went on to tell me hate is an even stronger emotion than liking or disliking a food. It's an intense and passionate dislike. And sometimes it can even lead people to do things they would not ordinarily do. Dangerous things. But it also doesn't really leave room for mercy. She said what I showed my mom and dad was mercey. Do you know what that means?"

Harry sat down and pulled Niall onto him comfortingly.

"It means you don't hate your parents after all."

"I'm a bad person, Harry. I have told them that many days since I turned eighteen. I know it must have hurt them so bad to hear me always say that whenever I was upset."

"But they knew it wasn't true, Niall. That's why they wanted to go to the family therapist. They wanted to talk to you so all of you could get down to the bottom of your real feelings. Can I ask you question?"

"What?"

"Did you cry like this when you were there?"

"No. I didn't want my parents to see me cry."

"Then that's fine. You don't have to. But opening up to your parents and your therapist the way you opened up to me just now is good for you. So when you go next week, I want you to try it out. You don't have to tell me how it went. That's none of my business. But I do want what's best for you just like your parents do. Do you understand that?"

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