A Tragic Kind of Wonderful(49)

“So you believe you’re heterosexual?”

“I don’t have to believe it. I just know.”

“I’m sorry, that was poor phrasing. I mean, if you don’t feel attracted to girls, was this an experiment? Why were you—”

“I don’t know! I’m telling you all this because I need you to tell me what it was! I’ve never looked at a girl except that one time. If I was attracted to girls I’d want Zumi—she was my best friend and I love her and she’s beautiful, but I’ve never wanted to kiss her, not like Annie and I were kissing. Not like I want to kiss David.”

“Who’s David?”

“He’s … this guy … I was on a … I mean, we haven’t … That’s a whole different thing. The point is, I want to kiss him and not Zumi or any other girl. But the bipolar made me a lesbian for a while and that’s scary.”

“Bisexual. Your encounter didn’t switch off your interest in guys. And bipolar disorder causes hypersexuality, especially during manic episodes, and it affects thoughts and emotions in many challenging ways, but it only magnifies your feelings. It doesn’t change your preferences.”

“So I’m bisexual and afraid to admit it?”

“Not afraid, necessarily. Possibly not aware.”

“How can I not be aware of my own preference! You’re saying I’m hiding it from myself? That could apply to everybody!”

“Bisexual doesn’t mean equal attractions. You could be on the edge of the spectrum where you might not think about it. Like you’re eighty percent into boys and only twenty percent into girls, so you don’t notice the less intense impulses compared to the strong ones. Then a manic episode magnifies everything, enough to boost a feeling of I want to spend time with that pretty girl into the more intense feeling of I want to kiss that pretty girl.”

“Great, so manic episodes don’t make me bisexual, they just make me realize I already am even though I don’t feel that way the rest of the time? That’s practically the same thing.”

Dr. Oswald nods. “I can see how it would seem that way. Does it upset you? To discover that you can love girls, too?”

I think a moment.

“No,” I say. “I just hate that I did it with Annie.”

“You mean instead of Zumi?”

“What? No. I know what I said before, but I didn’t feel that way for Zumi even during that week I was with Annie. I guess she’s not my type? I don’t know, I haven’t thought about that yet in the two minutes since I found out about this!”

“So it’s just about Annie? You’d be just as upset if Annie were a guy you didn’t like who your friend had a crush on?”

“Yes! But … it’s even worse than that. Zumi was in love with Annie and thought Annie didn’t love her back because she couldn’t, but now she’s found out two of her friends, who she thought were straight, were both bisexual and keeping it secret from her and getting together behind her back! So I feel like I’ve always felt—like scum of the earth for hooking up with the one person my best friend always wanted, even though I didn’t actually want her, only now she knows and hates me for it. And to top it all off, you’re telling me this wasn’t the bipolar’s fault!”

I wipe tears from my face.

“Bipolar disorder doesn’t change your preference,” Dr. Oswald says. “But going from zero to intimate with someone you didn’t like, knowing it would hurt your best friend to discover it, you can totally blame it for that.”

“Plenty of girls do that sort of thing without being bipolar.”

“Is that the kind of person you are?”

“Hell if I know. Depends on the day. On the hour. I can be all kinds of different people.”

“You said you stopped being friends with Annie and tried to get Zumi to side with you?”

“Yeah. I was kidding myself. I knew she’d never leave Annie.”

“And you never told her what happened?”

“If Zumi found out, it would have crushed her. The best thing I could do was disappear. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.”

Dr. Oswald doesn’t say anything. I glance over.

“That’s the kind of person you are, Mel.”

I look back up at the ceiling. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over now. I couldn’t protect her from Annie or me.”

“She’s devastated because she knows the real Annie now. Maybe it’s time for her to know the real Mel?”

I laugh bitterly. “Right! Oh, Mel, you’re bipolar? Thanks for telling me! That explains everything. We can be friends now. I’ve always wanted a … BBF—a Bipolar Best Friend!”

“You’re not bipolar, Mel. You have a bipolar disorder. You also have vibrant blue eyes, a wonderful personality, a tendency to undervalue yourself, and many, many other things. None of those things are you.”

“What am I, then?”

“A person who changes and grows all the time. What do you really think Zumi would say if you told her everything?”

“Probably the same thing she said about Annie on Saturday. That she doesn’t know who I am anymore. That she never did. How she can’t be friends with someone she doesn’t know.”