Next To Love [Book 2]

Chapter 34 : Elaboration

Melanie

I could sense Harry's hesitation from miles away, his posture turned poor and his bottom lip held tightly between his sharp teeth were all signs that he found it difficult and uncomfortable for him to open up. I wondered why it was so hard for him... why?

"Are you sure you want to know this, Melanie?" He ponders worrisomely. What was he afraid of? I couldn't think of a secret so terrible that he was afraid to come terms with and confess them out loud. What could be so bad?

My patients becomes slimmer whilst my curiosity only grows substantial, the suspense itching my skin as it's impending motives increase.

"I want to know you, Harry." I assure softly and tenderly, wanting to place my hand soothingly somewhere - anywhere on his cold skin, but I refrained from letting compulsion guide me.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning..." he takes a brief pause and my eyes subtly squint as I am pensively intrigued by what he has to say and what it will be. "I'm ill, Melanie." He says finally, his eyes eventually finding mine and connecting.

My mouth fall a-gap, creating a small circle of shock as it's ringed with my drying lips. "I-Ill?" I stammer helplessly, terrified that the elaboration to come will tell me he only has a short time period of time to keep living. I felt the anguish spread throughout my entire body in the form of petrified chills resulting in goosebumps when I felt my fragile golden heart break a little at the thought of Harry no longer by my side and instead buried six feet underground. The thought was unreal.

"Mentally ill." Harry clarifies causing me to let out a breath of cathartic relief I hadn't realized I was holding in until I blew it out. Still, any type of mental illness is severe and possibly worse than dying because whilst your living you have no choice but to continue with that incurable poison. I had no words, so I ever so slightly widened my curious almond eyes as a signal for him to go on.

"Never in my life did put mind to the cruel things I said or my narcissistic ways, I was never aware of the way I seemed to hurt people. I remained this way until Samira and I started attending couples therapy about three years ago." Harry dryly gulps, his large hands engulfing one another as he avoids my focused gaze burning into the side of his face, and unwillingly he keeps talking. "We realized we both have personal issues we never discussed. Those issues destroyed our relationship. It was evident from the start we weren't normal and...perhaps that's why we were so attracted to one another. We craved comprehension and we found that in one another because we... understood each other... in a way no one else could."

I bit my lip apprehensively, staring at the man I love so blindly. I look at him and it's as if I barely know him. The mention of him and someone else, especially Samira -the woman who has remorselessly patronized me my entire life- was revolting to me, but I need to hear this or I won't be able to understand his cryptic being.

"After you left nearly four years ago I was diagnosed with BPD..." I had no clue what those three simple yet unimaginable letters stood for, and hearing as Harry takes in a sharp breath- I knew it didn't stand for something remotely positive. "Borderline personality disorder... and NPD... narcissistic personality disorder."

These confessions explain so much. If I were still mad at him I'd say those were just excuses for him to act like a fuckíng asshole, but I was unable to remain angry with him. Now I understand why he acts out so irrationally, says cruel or sadistic things sometimes and is sickeningly charming when in reality he is being manipulative. He can't fully gain control over illnesses, they have taken over his life and in the process ruin any chance of him maintaining anything stable, rather it'd be his behavior, his mood, or his relationships.