“I have bipolar disorder. Everyone knows it, my parents, my friends, the entire freaking school. The fact that I am in a mental hospital is the gossip of the century. People whisper around me and refuse to look me in the eyes, like at any second I’ll snap and start screaming that the voices won’t shut up.” I’m crying again, and it pisses me off. I wipe my eyes, frantically trying to clear them. I want to remove the evidence of how badly all of it has hurt me…is still hurting me.
“Trey treats you normally.” Her voice is softer, gentler, and when I look at her through the wetness in my eyes, I see understanding in them, not the condemnation from minutes ago. “He sees you, not the disease.”
My knees shake. I reach to the wall for support.
“He loves you.”
NO! I scream inside. It’s not poss
