The Degradation (translation)

Chapter 25

Whitney Houston said: "Learning to love yourself is the greatest love"I'll never love myself. But when Louis looks at me, I feel loved, through his gaze I can learn to tolerate myself. He likes everything about me. All the good and bad. And if he likes it, then I might like it too.

***

Louis' pov

This is the second time I've been allowed to be present at lunch. The first time was yesterday, but it didn't work out. He didn't get to eat. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He has been eating artificial food for so long that he just can't accept the real one. But I'm still so proud of him. He's making so much effort, trying to recover, he wants to come back, and I can feel it. Yes, he still doesn't eat anything, doesn't drink much, doesn't talk to anyone but me, but even talking to me is a big step. I don't know what's changed in his head, but I can see it in his eyes. That he's trying to get out. For the first time since I've been here, I can see the desire to get out in his eyes.

But some things take time.

I've never been locked up, I don't know what it's like. I could pretend to have some idea after coming here every day, but I don't. I'm free, I can come and go as I please.

The noise of the fork brings me back to reality.

"It's not working?"

He shakes his head and tries to sit up, making himself comfortable on the pillows. I take off my shoes and sit down next to him. I lean down a little to take another look at the contents of the plate on the plastic table. These tables are so comfortable, by the way, you lie in bed and the food is right in front of you. He would have to take it with him quietly when Harry was released.

How to steal shampoo from a hotel room.

Some green mashed potatoes and boiled pieces of meat are placed on the plates. I frown.

"Ugh. I don't know why they wear that to you. This is even worse than group therapy."

He sighs. In the morning, Dr. Stephen asked Harry to go to group therapy. Harry just nodded and said minor things like "okay" and so on. I think he just wanted the doctor to shut up. Of course, I wouldn't want to talk to the person who tied me to the bed either.

"Okay," I pick up my fork, " I'll try to make sure they don't want to poison you."

The meat is so soft that I cut it with a fork. I chew slowly. I swallow and immediately wince.

"Well, how is it?"

"Remember the scrambled eggs, which we did on the day when I pushed you in the pool?"

"Yes."

"It's even worse."

He picks up his fork and tries it, too. He chews slowly and then swallows. He winces, too.

"You're right, it's disgusting."

I can't help but smile. He had just eaten.

In the end, the two of us finished the contents of the plate. I mean, I ate 90%, and he ate what was left. But drinking was no longer a problem. After lunch, he was very tired, so I left quickly. I don't like it when he falls asleep with me if he has to wake up alone.

***

All in turn. After we'd had lunch together for two days in a row and I'd stolen dessert because their applesauce was pretty good, Dr. Stephen forbade me to show up at mealtimes. Harry shouldn't associate food with me. He has to eat because it's vital, not because I want it. What Dr. Stephen didn't realize was that it had already happened. I didn't force him. He decided to pick up his fork and start eating. He knows he has to make an effort if he wants to get out of there quickly. And he's really trying, I can see that. He wants to get out of the hospital, he wants to go home. He's not trying to deceive anyone, he's really trying his best. And I'm so proud of him.