Monday, October 18, 2010
All right. This was a challenge for Roger. But it had been accomplished. Hadn't it? Almost.
He didn't want to feel this way. It was different. Camping out in the wilderness. He was out of his comfort zone.
"Do you think I need antidepressant?" He couldn't get to sleep. He was sure Doyle was already out like a light. It was damp and so cold. He snuggled next to Doyle in the sleeping bag.
"Now why would you say that?" Doyle messed with Roger's hair for a bit and kissed the side of his face.
"Because." He didn't know if he should or he shouldn't bring it up. "I'm suppose too."
"What?" Now Doyle was awake.
"It was years ago." Roger fretted. "Seriously, I think I'm just fine. My dad thought I needed help, cause, he didn't know what was going on with me. He was sure it was the divorce. Then it was all about me. You know, my gayness. I got so depressed because I was definitely not what I was suppose to be. Then Dad was all so sold on the idea that life would be great for me, no matter what. Maybe he's on antidepressants. But, things worked out great with Cory and well, I never took them." He was sure he'd said too much.
But why was it, Doyle was able to get through anything? No one could dare tear him down. Not even his Mom who was being so cold and mean about him not being there for their church. Maybe he was sad too, but Doyle never let it show ...while Roger felt time and time again, it was all his fault whatever might happen at work. He was feeling restless. He wanted a change. But what kind of change? He'd missed so many weeks of work. Going back. Getting retrained. Still he didn't know what he was going to do with his life.
He wished Doyle could tell him what to do, but he knew he wouldn't. Only Doyle was there for Roger. Roger closed his eyes. He did feel loved. He did.