Dr. Warren slips her glasses onto her face. “Why is that, Finley?”
She waits, poised with her pen pressed to paper to record my response. Omitting details makes me uncomfortable. Lying to Dr. Warren is out of the question. This woman pulled me back from the brink. I owe her so much.
“Because I’m happy, and I didn’t want you to tell me I need to give up what I love.”
My mom’s hand lands on my forearm. “You love him?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You don’t know him,” my dad protests from the other end of the couch. We’ve come to therapy dozens of times as a family, and he’s never behaved this belligerently. He’s angry I lied, sure, but he’s fighting every word out of my mouth. I don’t understand. “And does he knowyou?”
I turn toward him. “Yes, Zach knows I have bipolar disorder. So does my gymnastics coach, Veronica. And it’s thanks to Dr. Warren, I had the courage to tell them.”
“Oh, Finley, that’s a big deal,” Dr. Warren says while scribbling something on her notepad. “I’m proud of you. Can you tell us how those conversations went?”
I cross one leg over the other. “Telling Veronica was easier, because it was transactional, at least at first. I need her to watch out for any signs while I train. I don’t trust myself to spot them.” Dr. Warren taught me how bipolar disorder could skew my perception of reality. “I put off telling Zach for a long time because I didn’t want to lose him.”
“Did that happen?”
“No, but I asked him to take some time to think about it without me there to distract him. It’s not an easy life he’d be choosing. It’s hard to picture my life without him, but I’d hate it more if he jumped in blindly and felt saddled with my baggage, you know?”
Dr. Warren’s mouth opens to respond, but my dad beats her to the punch.
“That’s not healthy.” He looks to Dr. Warren for confirmation. “Attachment for someone with her condition can be dangerous.”
“So you want me to live a lonely life? By that logic, I should cut all ties with my family in case ‘losing you’ sends me down a spiral.”
“That’s different, and—”
“No,” I say. “It isn’t.”
Dr. Warren shifts in her seat and redirects our conversation. “That’s a big statement, Finley. Why don’t you tell us about Zach? What do you love about him?”
The tension in my body deflates with thoughts of Zach. “Well, there’s the obvious. He’s handsome and talented and he has this surety about his life, like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be, doing what he’s meant to do… but it’s so much more than that. He understands me—my life as an athlete, why my sport means so much to me.
“And he’s supportive. He came to the gym to watch me train when he was sidelined with an injury. He helped me to loosen up, to stop taking every little thing so seriously. I remembered what it was like toenjoygymnastics, and relax and take things as they come instead of planning every little detail. I like being around him…”
I take a deep breath, exhaustion creeping in with my vulnerability. “He’s light, and after being in darkness for so long, it’s what I crave—pure, undiluted happiness. He gives that to me.”
The room remains silent for ten seconds… fifteen… thirty.
Dr. Warren employs her favorite tactic—silence—to force us to think and speak first.
Mom’s the first to break, as usual. “He sounds wonderful, honey. I’m sorry we didn’t spend much time with him at Christmas.”
“There will be other opportunities, provided he chooses me.”
Dr. Warren’s brow scrunches. “Why do you think he won’t?”
My dad scoffs. “He’s a twenty-year-old professional hockey player.”
“He’s twenty-one,” I correct. “And that has nothing to do with it. Zach’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met, but his perspective could change while we’re apart.”
“Why do you consider yourself such a burden, Finley?”
An involuntary laugh bursts from my chest. “Because I am. Do you have any idea how much gymnastics costs? How much they invested in my Olympic dream, only to watch it fall apart? Then their lives became consumed with my health and caring for an adult child. I hate that they think they need to watch over me.”
Dr. Warren turns her attention to my parents. “Matthew, Grace, how does hearing that make you feel?”
