The Things That I Know || George Michael

thirty - why her?

Note: this chapter contains a recollection of character trauma and mention of mental health issues.

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"So, I assume you've been anticipating this session?" Julie asks George, at his next therapy appointment. She takes her seat as usual, before inviting George to sit down. "I hope you haven't fretted too much about it."

"I can't say I've been looking forward to the stuff we're meant to be talking about," George admits, though this statement is more-than-likely apparent without his verbal clarification. "I guess I'll just see where this session takes me."

"We'll just go with the flow. I won't force you to talk about anything you're not quite comfortable with," Julie assures him, as she opens up her file to catch herself up on what's already been discussed between them previously. "So, in our last session, we touched on the fact you've had dark thoughts and a low mood before ... as a result of elements of your life such as your sexuality; and of course, your mother's recent passing. I gave you the information leaflets last time, too. Did you put them to any use?"

"I can't say I've really needed to," George answers, unsure whether to be proud or ashamed of this. "This last week or so has been tough, but I've not quite felt at breaking point."

"Talk me through what's happened this past week," Julie requests, an assertive politeness in her tone. "What's made this week so tough?"

"My husband and I had to go to a trial in court, for a bloke who tried to kill him. Long story short, my husband was held at knifepoint in a hotel by a guy who'd been stalking him in London," George explains. "My husband, he, uh ... he'd been dreading it all this time. It's been a bit of an ordeal, from start to end. But luckily, the guy essentially admitted what he'd done. The jury found him guilty, and he's going to be sentenced at some point in the near future."

"Well, that certainly does sound like an ordeal," Julie comments, taking note of his words. "But, one that worked out for the best in the end, wouldn't you say?"

"It was a weight off our shoulders," George acknowledges. "We were both worried that they'd find him not guilty, or something. But that's not all, I guess. The lass who attacked me at my children's school ... she got arrested too. Hate crime against me. I decided to press charges against her, and she came clean on the spot when the police got her. So you could say, everyone's been breaking the law and we've been getting justice for it."

"Certainly an eventful week for you then, George," Julie laughs. "But it's great that you didn't feel so low these last few days. That's excellent to hear. It's baby steps — I'm sure you've heard that term before."

"I have, yes." George chuckles lightly, nodding his head in light amusement. "I don't expect to be cured from these therapy sessions; not even slightly. I just come here because every man, woman and child demanded I did."

"I can see that it has been helping, even if only a little," Julie retorts. "Which is, of course, what the aim is. But I suppose now we've talked about the last week, we should get down to the nitty-gritty."

"Oh, goodie," George quips. "I'm so excited."

"So." Julie inhales in preparation for her challenging interrogation; but alas, she knows she must have the conversation. After all, it's what she's paid to do. "I know that your sexuality is something that has caused you a great amount of difficulty in the past. And I remember you mentioned in a previous session that you struggled with coming out to those you care about. Would you say you felt ashamed of your sexuality, George?"

"No," George answers immediately. "Of course I don't. I didn't choose to be born gay. Nobody who is gay, or bisexual, or asexual, or anything else chooses to be born with that sexuality. How can one be ashamed of something they were born with? It would be like being ashamed of having brown hair. Or being ashamed of having green eyes. It's a part of you. Was there a time when I couldn't find joy in my sexuality? Of course. Because when you're so isolated — in a world where, you know, there's a chance that nobody will accept you for the way you were born — it's hard to find joy. Especially when there's nobody to share in the joy with. I spent almost a decade, after I realised I was gay, trying to find the happiness I so-desperately craved. I felt like I was hiding in the shadows, not wanting to reveal myself to anybody. It wasn't until I found my Levi, that I finally started to feel the joy in my sexuality."