Grief
(Monday Afternoon, July 29th)
"Good afternoon, King Ben," the councilor smiles. "How are you today?"
"Tired," Ben says, as he sits across from her.
"Long day?" she questions.
He shakes his head with a deep frown, "I sleep in the mornings. I just woke up."
She nods, "Well, then, maybe I can give you a good start." before glancing at her notes. "Your employer's informed me that your mood has been increasingly affected by health concerns."
"That's a way to put it," Ben confirms.
"Something about your body temperature." She questions, "Would you like to explain?"
Ben wets his lips, "My body temperature abnormally high. Even when I take medicine for it, it's above a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. It's something I've had my entire life, and my parents always worry when I get sick that I will die."
"Has their worries added to your own?" she wonders.
Ben takes a minute, "All I know is I'm going to die, and there's no telling when."
"And how does that make you feel?"
"I've been waiting to die," Ben informs. "I just wish it would happen."
"Nervous?" she questions.
He half laughs, "Always."
"Deadly illness can be a very scary thing," she acknowledges. "What I try to do for people in your situation is to get you to enjoy whatever time you have left."
"Like a bucket list?" Ben shakes his head, "I'm not a cancer patient. I don't know if I have five months or ten years to get my affairs in order."
"You could still make one, if you'd like," she counters. "No one wants to die leaving things unsaid or desires unfulfilled."
"I'd be okay with dying right now," Ben disagrees.
"Is that something you've thought a lot about?" she inquires.
"Dying?" he awkwardly smiles. "Of course."
"Wanting to die," she corrects. "How often a day do you think about it?"
Ben hesitates, "A good amount."
She nods, "There's an exercise I'd like you to try." before she hands him a small notepad. "Every day, I'd like you to right down three reasons to continue to live."
Ben eyes from the yellow paper to her, "Why?"
"You say you'd like to die now." She explains, "That could be an indication of suicidal thoughts, and this exercise is used to overcome that idea."
"Is it suicide if I'm already dying?" Ben speculates.
"We're all going to die," she frowns. "Most of us have the luxury of believing we could live forever, until we grow old and science has not advanced far enough." She pauses, "And like you, we don't know when we'll die either. All we know is it will happen, and we have a limited amount of time to do whatever it is we've set out to accomplish." Ben nods in understanding, and she nods to the lined paper, "List three reasons to live."
Ben stares at the paper, before he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "It's too hard."
"Just think of something," she calmly comments. "It can be small."
Ben contemplates, "I think I have one, but it's stupid."
"There are no stupid reasons to live," she reassures.
"I don't want to prove Chad right." He informs, "He's really upset about me wanting to die, called me a coward."
"He clearly cares about you," she comments, "to want you to stay here."
"He does," Ben solemnly agrees, before he writes the reason down.
"And you'd like to make up with him," she prods.
Ben sighs, "It's not fair for me to expect him to do that."
"You can always try," she suggests.
He meets her grey eyes, "I need to learn how to accept no for an answer."
"Alright," she accepts. "Can you think of anything else to add to your list?"
Ben takes a moment, "My father thinks that if I… die early, my mother… that he wouldn't be enough to keep her going."
When he doesn't move, she questions, "Do you want to write that down?"
He hopelessly shakes his head, "How is any of this supposed to keep me from leaving?"
"It might not," she acknowledges, "but thinking about a reason to stay might give you the extra time you need to find a better reason or for someone to notice you could use their help."
"Their help?" Ben repeats.
"Well, let's say Prince Chad notices you're extra thoughtful one day," she supplies, "he might want to distract you from those darker thoughts."
"Chad can't notice me if he's not seeing me," Ben huffs.
She hesitates, "Would you like to talk about that, your parting from Chad?"
Ben shakily breathes, "It feels like half of my life is missing, that part of me is missing."
"He kept you going," she notes.
"He certainly kept things interesting," he uneasily laughs. "I always wanted to be alone, except when it was him. And every once in a while, he would pull me into his life, make me go out and talk to his friends. We'd make a mess of things, and I didn't care… because when I spent time with him, it was like we were untouchable. My family, my illness, our titles, it all disappeared. And I really like being alone, but it was always better being alone with him." He pauses and shakes his head, "Sorry. I know that must sound really fantastical and pathetic."
"No," she disagrees. "It sounds like you two were close."
"I really miss him," Ben admits.
"Maybe you'd like your third reason to be on good terms with him?" she advises.
"Good terms?" he disbelieves.
"He has a large influence on your emotional state," she recognizes. "Not being on good terms with him might be causing unnecessary stress." Ben shakes his head, and she explains, "You two have been friends for a long time. I'm sure he'd like to be on good terms too."
"Being on good terms isn't enough," Ben frustrates. "I want him in my life."
She takes a moment, "Then make that your reason."
Ben stares down at the paper, "How can I ask him after everything?"
"You're diplomatic," she reminds him. "Why don't you arrange a meeting for you two to talk it out. You can use phrases like 'I feel' or 'I would like' instead of arguing."
"He's fifteen, and he's not trained for political discussion," Ben dismisses. "He will say what he feels how he feels it."
"You could do it here," she offers. "We could set rules, and I can keep the peace."
"I'm not comfortable with that," he unsurely says.
"Why not?" she questions.
"Because," Ben faces her, "he knows things about me that you don't, and it will get brought up if I talk to him."
"I wouldn't judge," she reassures.
Ben wets his lips, "Mal and Evie. They can be my third reason. If I die, my proclamation to bring them over could be dismissed. I can't risk dying, before I know they can stay here."
She nods, "That's a good reason as any."
"Do I need new reasons every day?" he complains.
"No," she evenly expresses, "but I'd like you to take the time to come up with ones that you perceive as better or more effective."
"Alright," he accepts.
"Now we can start on the bucket list," she smiles.
Ben groans, "Really?"
"Your life will feel more meaningful if you have goals to accomplish."
"But I don't know how long I have," Ben counters.
"Let's start with today," she solves. "What's one thing you can do today?"
Ben takes a minute, "I haven't really talked to Mal about what happened before she got hospitalized. I'd like to know what's going on there."
"Okay." She continues, "Now, I'd like you to list seven things for the week."
"Seven?" Ben's brows raise.
"It's just to keep you busy," she explains. "There's no shame in not getting everything done. Some things can be hard and take time. If you don't finish in time, just add it to the next week. You can even divide it into parts if you think that will be easier to manage."
"This week." Ben takes a deep breath, "Can I put down talking to Mal?"
"If you'd like." She inquires, "Would you like to add to it, plan a little?"
"I could give her a protein shake," Ben nearly smiles, before his expression falters. "Oh, wait. She can't drink water."
"Can you use milk?"
"Mal likes milk," Ben smiles. "I think that'll work."
"So, you will open conversation by offering a drink," she concludes, and Ben writes it down. "What else can you do this week?"
"It's Unification Week," Ben remembers. "I could ask Chad to meet at the theater."
"Sounds good," she smiles.
Ben writes it down; however, when he thinks more, he frowns and his eyes shift, "I can't think of anything else."
"You don't need to solve all your problems in one week," she assures. "What's something you want to do for yourself?"
Ben pictures himself in the mirror, and his frown deepens, "I don't know."
"You don't have something you want to buy or a movie you want to watch?" Ben shakes his head, and she comments, "If you're going to the theater, maybe you'd like a new tie?"
"No," Ben dismisses.
"For some people, the way they look affects their emotional health." She explains, "When someone showers and dresses well, they feel better. When they wear something new that might help them express themselves more currently, it allows them to feel seen and mattered."
"I'm king," Ben points out. "My clothes already express that."
"Being king isn't who you are," she counters. "It's your job."
"My title is who I am," Ben dismantles. "A health store associate is my job." She stays quiet, and he shakes his head, "You never asked why a king would be working at a store."
"I just assumed you were trying to reconnect with the general public," she answers.
Ben eyes away, "There's an excuse for everything. No wonder no one knows anything."
"Your illness," she guesses. "Do you wish people knew?"
"The council would have to know first," Ben thinks, before he writes it down. "Within the next seven days, I will tell them."
"That's very courageous of you."
"It's very disrespectful that I haven't told them yet," Ben inputs, before he taps the notepad with the pen's other end.
"Only four more to go," she encourages.
"Yeah," he seethes. "If only I could think."
"Hungry?" she questions.
He falters, "What?"
"Your stomach's growled a couple times," she informs.
"Yeah, um," he scratches the back of his head. "I didn't have time before coming here."
"Maybe you could treat yourself to something nice, invite your friends or family to a buffet," she suggests.
"That would probably get my friends off my back," Ben murmurs. "But no. I can't."
"You can't go to a buffet or you can't eat?" she questions.
Ben hesitates, "Every day it's everyone I see talking about food, offering food, asking if I ate, what I ate, and how much. I would like just one minute, where my life isn't consumed by it. Can you do that for me?"
"No food talk," she confirms.
"Thank you," Ben breathes with relief, before he looks at the paper again. "We should be getting our class lists soon. I can probably get school supplies this week."
She nods, "Planning for the future is good. What else?"
Ben places a hand to his head, "I don't know."
"Is there anyone else you want to talk to?" she prompts, and he can't help but smile.
"There is someone," Ben admits, "but I don't know. I don't even have his number. I'd have to like special order him or something."
"Is that an option?" she inquires.
"I could put him on my pizza order," Ben speculates, "but that doesn't mean he would bring it."
"Well, considering this is the first time I've seen you smile since you got here," she begins, "it's my professional opinion that you should add him to your list."
Ben jots it down, "Order Tyler."
"Two more," she smiles.
He hears his phone again and pulls it out, "I have to get back to Bridget at some point."
"And your last thing?"
Ben wets his lips, "I want to reassure my mother that I'm not going to die, but my weight worries her. I'm afraid if she just sees me, she will cry."
"The way you described it makes it sound like a stress issue." She wonders, "Maybe you could try explaining to her that talking about it too much makes it harder."
Ben writes it down, "I guess I can try that." before he covers his mouth and yawns.
"Can you come up with five long-term goals for me, please?"
Ben takes a deep breath, "Graduate high school, graduate college, finish the low-income apartment project, get married, and attend my father's funeral—where everyone will be able to remind me what a great man he is." Ben grins at her, "Are we done now?"
"We have five minutes until the hour is over," she informs, and Ben's expression falls. "There seems to be stress around your parents. Would you like to talk about your father?"
"Not really," Ben eyes away.
"What about your mother?"
He faces her, "I love her." before he shakes his head. "That's all there really is to it."