Page 41 of The Golden Boy’s Guide to Bipolar

if given the chance. I did what I had to do, and no matter how much I hate it, no matter how much it hurts, I would do it

again.

If I needed to hurt Jamal to get him to stop loving me, then that’s what I had to do. There’s no use apologizing. In fact, that would only make it worse. Still, I wish there was something I could say to make him feel better about all of this. “I never wanted to hurt you,” I admit.

“I know,” Jamal says, but I don’t buy it. How could he be so sure, after everything I did, that my intentions were good? “But

you did,” he adds.

“I know,” I say. “This is why you’re better off without me.”

Jamal lets out a little breath of a laugh through his nose at that. “And you’re better off without me.”

I meet his eyes again to check if he’s serious. Like always, he is. “How?” I ask. How am I possibly better off without Jamal?

He just looks at me for a moment like the answer is obvious. “You hate yourself when you’re with me. And as much as I love

you, I can’t love you out of hating yourself.”

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing escapes. I do hate myself, but how can he possibly think that’s because of him?

“I mean... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said I love you. I didn’t mean to cross a boundary. I just—”

“I love you too,” I blurt out. “But you’re right. I hate myself. Not because of you, but I do and you should too, so we can’t

be together. I want what’s best for you, and that’s not me.”

Jamal’s quiet again for a while. I expect him to give me his usual “I understand,” but he doesn’t. “You’re wrong.” He shakes

his head. “You’re so wrong.”

“ You’re wrong,” I shoot back. “I’m a fucking mess. All I’ve done is hurt you. I don’t deserve you. I never did, and you know it.”

Jamal lets out a measured breath. “I won’t say what I want to say right now because I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Just say it,” I challenge him.

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“Or you don’t really want to say it.”

Jamal sighs, caving. “Cesar.” He shifts so his whole body is facing me. “You deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy. And if I don’t make you happy anymore, then fine. I can live with that. But don’t go fooling yourself into

thinking you’re doing this for me. Because you did hurt me, Cesar. But you also loved me harder than anyone else ever has.

“You were there for me when no one else was. You showed me how to be brave. How to be myself. And whether you like it or not,

you made my life so, so much better. So I don’t know why you’re doing any of this, but you’re not doing it for my sake. You

can tell yourself that all you want, but we both know it’s not true. The best thing you can do for me now, Cesar, is let yourself

be happy.”

A lump forms in my throat again, and when I speak it weighs down my words. I want to ask him how? How the hell am I supposed

to just be happy ? I don’t know how to do that. Not for him or for anyone else. So instead, I just say the only thing that makes sense right

now.

“I understand.” I lie back down on the ground and close my eyes so Jamal can’t see the tears forming in them.

“As much as I want to be here for you right now, I think you need someone else,” Jamal says, and I hear him get up and walk

away. That’s when I let the tears fall down the sides of my face.

Be happy.

Is that really all he wants from me? And what if I can’t give him that? What if I can never give him that?

Then the grass shifts next to me again.

I want so badly to open my eyes and throw myself into Jamal’s arms and cry into them. To kiss him out here under the stars,

where no one can see but God. I want to not care about any of it. But I do.

“Hey...” I jolt upright when I realize it’s Yami’s voice, not Jamal’s that greets me. We haven’t had a real conversation

in ages, so I have no idea what to expect.

“Do you really like Bianca?” she finally asks.

“What?” I ask. Not what I was expecting.

“Because if you do...” She sighs. “You don’t need my permission to be with who you want to be with—and I really do just

want you to be happy. But don’t expect me to go playing nice with her.”

I let out a laugh-cry at that. Is she really saying she’s okay with me dating Bianca?

“If you really like her—”

“I don’t,” I interrupt.

She looks taken aback for a moment. A brief pained expression etches onto her features before they shift into something softer.

Before she can ask my why I’m such a horrible person, I change the subject. “So did you get in?”

“What are you talking about?”

“To Whitman. The letter you didn’t want Mami to see?” I remind her, and she lets out a little laugh.

“No. But you should probably know... I did get accepted somewhere else.”

“That’s good,” I say with a nod, even though it feels awful.

She squints her eyes like she’s skeptical. “That’s good? Is that it?”

I just shrug. “You’ll be better off.”

“Yeah, but... what about you, though? What about Mami?” she asks as she nervously starts plucking grass from the ground.

“What about us?” I say, but I don’t actually want her to answer that by justifying why her needs are less important, so I

keep going. “We’ll be fine. You should do what’s best for you.”

She’s quiet for a while. Eventually she stops picking grass and lets out a breath. “Thanks for understanding.”

I want to tell her I’m happy for her and that she deserves to be happy for herself. But I’m a coward who doesn’t know how

to say nice things, so I just nod. We sit there awkwardly for a while before she breaks the silence again.

“So you don’t like Bianca....” She trails off. Great. I almost thought we wouldn’t have to talk about this.

“I don’t,” I admit again.

“Then why...?” she asks quietly. “Do you really hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you, Yami,” I say just as quiet. Then, loud enough to make sure she hears me, “I could never hate you.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because I’m a bad person!” I find myself shouting. “Why is that so hard for everyone to understand? I’m a bad person, I hurt

people, I fuck everything up, I ruin lives! That’s why you’re better off leaving!” I don’t realize I’m crying again until

she yanks me into a hug.

It’s the first time we’ve hugged since before I hooked up with Bianca at that party. I sink into her embrace and cry harder,

and I can feel from the movement of her chest and shoulders that she’s crying too.

“You’re not a bad person, Cesar,” she says through sniffles as she pulls herself away to look me in the eye, hands firmly grasping my shaking shoulders as her shiny pupils bore into mine.

“You can hurt everyone around you as much as you want, but you can’t make us stop caring about you, okay?

It’s just not gonna happen. Tú eres mi otro yo. ”

I can’t hold myself together at that phrase. You are my other me. Yami has always been that for me. It’s always been the two of us, no matter what. I think back to the last time she said

that to me. It was when I was inpatient at Horizon.

I ask her the same question now that I asked her then, still somehow completely at a loss for the answer. “Why did God make

me like this if I’m not supposed to be like this?” My voice cracks, and she pulls me close to her again, this time letting

me cry into her lap. “I hate being like this... I hate it so fucking much.”

She strokes my hair while I sob. She doesn’t bother telling me what she told me back then. That there’s nothing wrong with

me. Nothing to fix. That God made us exactly how we’re supposed to be. She knows I wouldn’t buy it. Instead, she just says,

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”