“This man you’re with, what’s he do? Does he know about your issues?”
“You mean Borderline Personality Disorder?” Claim it. Own it. “Yes, he knows.”
“Oh…That’s nice then. Very good. I’m impressed. So when can I meet him?”
“I don’t know, soon I guess.” He could picture Jude and him at the Desmond house, sitting at the endless dining table, while his stepmother asked question after question, causing Jude to recoil further and further into himself and his seat. “I’ll let you know. I have to go now.”
After they’d said good night and hung up, Harris looked around the kitchen, trying to reconnect with his surroundings. He could feel himself slipping away. He hadn’t had an episode of dissociation in a while. He couldn’t let this conversation spoil his mood. Jude would be here any minute. It was Friday night and they finally had a date.