“I’ll be back,” I tell him, grabbing my keys.
“Yup,” is his only response, he doesn’t even look up at me. I’m not surprised but still makes me want to scream. When I make it down to the lobby café, I see Helen standing there.
“You see what I’m talking about?” I say when I reach her.
“I do. It’s not completely unexpected with everything that’s happened. He doesn’t talk to you at all?” she asks.
“About as much as you saw up there. He’s shut me out completely,” I shrug, trying to hide how much it hurts me.
“You have to understand that Chris had a strong moral compass that he anchored based on his family. He and his father had a very close relationship. He was his role model, his values, his beliefs all stemmed from that relationship. The person he built himself to be was on that foundation and now, that structure has crumbled. Everything he knows or once believed is questionable for him,” she explains.
“So everything he believed about, family, loyalty…love, he doesn’t believe in anymore?” I ask, commanding myself not to cry. Helen gives me a sympathetic smile.
“It’s just all questionable for him right now. However, he is here, with you and Caylen. That says a lot,” she says squeezing my shoulder.
I let out a deep sigh.
“So what do I do?” I ask, in need of some sort of direction because right now I don’t know which way to turn.
“What have you been doing since he’s been like this?”
“I-I haven’t done anything. I’ve been trying to give him time. I thought after a while he’d just snap out of it, but next week will make a month of him being like this. I just didn’t want to make things worse.”
“We need Chris to feel again. For him to let his emotions back in.”
“And how do I do that?”
“You were able to get Chris and Cal to fall in love with you once. It shouldn’t be hard to make them remember why,” she says, giving me a reassuring smile. I chuckle.
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m really up for that again,” I tell her honestly.
“Emotions are intertwined, happiness, joy, sadness, anger. Make him feel one, the others will follow through.”
When I get back upstairs to our apartment nothing's changed of course. Not that I expected something would, but in my life recently things could flip in the blink of an eye. Make him feel something, she says.
Yeah that’s going to be easy.
“I was thinking we could go to dinner tonight. There are so many amazing restaurants here,” I tell him. He glances over at me.
“Whatever you want,” he shrugs. I let out a deep frustrated breath and head into my bedroom. I pick up my phone and call Angela. Last week she finished her thesis and went on vacation to the Bahamas to celebrate.
“Hey hon!” she says enthusiastically.
“Hi. What are you up to?” I ask her innocently.
“Nothing much, I’ve been watching a marathon of Snapped mostly,” she chuckles.
“A whole marathon? Isn’t that kind of depressing?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” she admits.
“Well, I have the perfect way to bring some sunshine into your life,” I laugh.
“And how would you do that?” she says cautiously.
“By getting Caylen for the weekend,” I say optimistically.
“Really? Of course I can. What do you have planned…How are things, is he still acting like he’s from the Walking Dead?”
“Pretty much. I talked to Helen though and she says that I should try to snap him out of it in so many words,”
“And how are you supposed to do that?” she chuckles.
“I have a couple of ideas, but as long as Caylen is here I don’t know how well I can implement them,” I admit.
“Hmmm. You must tell me how this goes,” she chuckles. “Anywho, yeah I’m in for the weekend. You can bring her whenever you’re ready.”
“Great. I’ll be over in about an hour and a half if that’s okay.”
After I’ve packed up Caylen’s things for the weekend I scoop her up into my arms off the living room floor. Chris looks at me curiously as I get her dressed, but doesn’t say anything.
“Are you excited to stay with Aunt Angie this weekend Princess?” I ask Caylen. I glance over at Chris. He rises from his seat and walks toward us. He kisses Caylen on the forehead and heads upstairs. I don’t even have to guess. When I get back he’ll be in the guest room playing his guitar with the door shut. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to make it over to Angela’s. When we arrive she quickly buzzes us in and I make the trek up the stairs to her apartment.
“Hi princess!!” she squeals in excitement, taking Caylen from my arms.
“What’s up mama?” she says, all of her attention on Caylen.
“I need to start working out again. Your stairs almost killed me,” I say, catching my breath.
“Are you ready for fun with Auntie Angie?” she coos, taking off of Caylen’s coat.
“She should be asleep in the next hour or so,” I tell her.
“No worries, if she’s not I have a whole night of fun things planned for us. Now what about you and the hubby?” she asks playfully.
“I am going to try to break him out of this trance that he’s fallen into,” I shrug.
“I really miss him. I miss both of them as crazy as it sounds,” I chuckle.
“They or he…he’s in there, Lauren. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be sitting at home with you and Caylen,” she says taking a seat on her sofa and patting the cushion next to her. I plop down next to her and watch as she switches the television from Lifetime to Nick Jr.
“I thought for some reason knowing whatever happened that caused his condition would make things better, instead it made things worse.”
“One of the things that’s interesting about DID is how it’s a mechanism for coping with, tragedy, pain, loss. When you think about it, we all dissociate when we don’t want to feel. We deflect. Now we don’t necessarily do it to the extent of those who have the disorder but when you think about it we’re all searching for a form of it, whether it’s drinking, using drugs or even shopping.”
“I guess you’re right,” I say, mulling over her words.
When I make it home the living room is as empty as I expected it to be. As I head up the stairs, sure enough I can hear the sound of the guitar being played. I stand next to the door and listen for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out my next move.
“Make him feel something,” I say softly, reminding myself of Helen’s words. I have been doing the exact opposite since we arrived. I open the door and he stops playing.
“You don’t have to stop on my account,” I tell him playfully.
“I was finishing up anyway,” he says as he starts to put the guitar away.
“I wish you wouldn’t treat me like this,” I tell him, stepping in front of him.
“How am I treating you?” he asks, closing his guitar case.
“Like I’m a stranger, or a roommate you tolerate. I know you’re hurting, I just wish you’d let me help you. That you’d let me in,” I tell him, grabbing his hand.