A week later and I have barely left the house at all. I don't think there is anything wrong with this, but apparently everyone else does. I get constant calls from friends telling me that I have to get out and live my life, but I can't. My life is with Kurt and without him I feel...alone.
Exactly a week from when I last saw Kurt Jeff takes it upon himself to come over.
He sits across the couch from me. "How have you been?"
"Fine."
He waits, clearly expecting me to elaborate, and when I don't he takes a deep breath. "I miss him too you know. How is he?"
That gets my attention. No one has wanted to talk about Kurt. It's all been, oh he'll get out soon and keep your hopes up.
"He...has good days and bad ones...right now it's more bad than good, but they are hoping that will change with the new medication he is on."
"Medication? Is he really that bad?" Jeff says, concern lacing his voice.
"Yes, Jeff. He really is THAT bad."
"I'm just saying...that that shouldn't be the first thing you try."
I take a deep breath. I know he means well, he is Kurt's friend after all, but he doesn't get it. "This isn't the first thing he has tried."
"Well maybe if y-"
"Let's pretend Kurt is in the hospital for a broken leg, okay?"
He gives me a weird look but nods.
"The doctors would give him a cast and meds for the pain, and that would be all fine and normal, right? You wouldn't question that, right?"
"Well, no. But that's different."
"No. Not at all. Kurt is sick. He needs meds to control his brain and thoughts. Being physically sick, or mentally sick...help is help. Whatever makes him happy and better."
Jeff is quiet for a long time. When he does speak his voice is soft and timid, as if he doesn't want to upset me, "since when were you such an advocate for mental health?"
"Since my boyfriend developed schizophrenia."