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"You've seen what I can do, Robby. Could a drug addict do what I do?"
"Apparently."
And I'm wondering how I got into this situation, because I didn't do shit to deserve it did I? I was just trying to fix something so I could do my job. How can I get in trouble for making sure I function?
I'm not an addict. Robby is wrong about that. So so very wrong. If I was an addict I wouldn't be working at an ER. I would be freaking out and hiding cocaine or some shit. Constantly twitching and snapping. I don't do that and I know damn well that I'm right.
I wish things could go back to the way they were so fucking bad and my heartaches at every memory because why couldn't Robby understand this wasn't my fault?
He understood me so many other times. We understood each other. Like that one night we were back at his apartment right after one of our first few dates. It was funny back then to nag him about how this was a major HR violation. I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore. But I learned something really personal and important that day.
I was shoved up against the wall of Robby's bedroom, and we were kissing. Kissing so hard we could barely breath. Pausing momentarily to catch our breaths, the sound of heavy breathing filling the room. When we reconnected I remember my hands slipping under his shirt, slowly pulling it up, he let me, it was nice. We broke apart to finally finish taking off his shirt and I saw scars. Right on his chest too. We kind of just both stood there for a moment. I think I was confused at first, I didn't know much about this stuff.
"You uhm... What happened?"
I asked, constantly glancing between his face and his chest.
"Double incision mastectomy. I'm transgender, Langdon."
I nodded, I didn't exactly know how to feel back then. Was I meant to be happy, neutral, angry? I just acknowledged it really. I think, looking back on it, maybe that was all Robby wanted. Silent acknowledgment.
"Still not on a first name basis, Micheal?"
I teased, almost laughing but containing myself.
Would he still let me call him that name now? After all this?
"I'm not calling you Frank."
Robby scoffed, rolling his eyes.
That moment was so special to me. He trusted me there and I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it now.
There was another time too, where Robby had been that vulnerable with me.
We had just had sex, I think it was my first time doing it with him. We were sitting in bed together, watching TV and I think there was a character who had a name that I guess really pissed him off because he immediately wanted to change shows and get dressed. I think that character had his dead name maybe. Made him really dysphoric, I remember telling him on repeat he was far from even seeming like a woman. That night was special to the both of us I think.
I don't have many memories where I was that vulnerable with him. There was one time I was getting changed and he--
"Langdon?"
"Yeah, Robby?"
"You've got something on your shoulder. Want me to bandage them?"
"Sure. You gonna interrogate me?"
"No, never. Not at all, Frank."
I'd tried and tried to forget about that time in my life. Where he had to just baby me because I couldn't go a day without doing ... that.
But I couldn't block out that memory. Those memories. Because he really, really cared back then and that was what I really needed to stop. So why couldn't he do the same now? Help me stop? Stick around with me? Was I too much then? Am I too much now? He's still friends with Abbot after all the bullshit he's pulled. All those stunts on the roof. Whitaker too, all he did was lose a patient. So what? We've all had a patient die, he doesn't deserve special treatment. So why not me? It's fucking pathetic, really. Would he save me if I tried to jump like he did Abbot? Considering, I'm just his "best resident". Would he try to get some sense into me? What am I even thinking? I'm not going to almost commit suicide because my attending I've been dating thinks I'm an addict.
And suddenly all the memories are flooding back. Us getting a puppy, celebrating my 35th birthday, going on dates at the park, me learning prayers for him so we could chant together before bed, attending his fathers funeral and knowing that I had to stick with him through this no matter how hard he pushed me away, and--
I need to stop. I'm panicking, standing right where Robby left me and panicking. I need to get the fuck out. I can't breathe. This isn't fucking worth it anyway.