Dear Greyson's diary,

Well, last night was good, until I had to go to bed. Fun fact, Drew still calls it bedtime. He's such a dork. But then, Dr. Johansen came into my room to tell me I will be leaving this afternoon. He said they see no reason to keep me here and my father wants me at home. I know I should be happy, but I don't want to face him. And I don't want to lose Drew. What if we never communicate again? I know I have his info, but that would really suck. Now I have to go home and live. This was never my intention.

"Good morning Greyson." Drew appeared to be upset.

"Good morning. I see you are also upset? What happened?" The boys grabbed their breakfast trays and sat at the table.

"Well nothing really, it is actually good I don't know why I'm sad. They told me I can go home today, but I will miss you." Greyson smiled, relieved.

"Well guess what? I am going home too. Then I can actually message you and all that." This made Drew happy.

Drew was just as afraid of losing Greyson as Greyson was of losing Drew. The fact that neither of them were very popular almost made their friendship even more important, even if they barely knew each other.

Part of Drew was afraid that Greyson was just being friendly and he wouldn't actually message him. Kind of like when you meet people at camp, exchange numbers and then don't talk to each other all year until next summer, except this time there wouldn't be a next summer. Hopefully.

The boys finished their breakfast and made their way into the morning group. This group session mostly consisted of focusing on their strengths. The kind of sickening sweet activity no depressed person actually wanted to do. They were given a diagram of a head and told to fill it with good things about themselves.

"Hey Drew, I think you forgot to write smart on there." Drew looked up at Greyson. "Ha, okay. Well, I think you forgot to write charasma king." Drew stuck his tongue out.

"Oh boo you child. You can't just compliment me and flash your tongue like you said something mean." Drew giggled. "But I did didn't I?"

Dr. Johansen walked into the group room. "Okay Greyson, your father is here early today, so we need you to fill out your release forms and we'll show you to the lobby." He hands Greyson his papers and a dull golf pencil.

"Oh, looks like my father is on time for once in his life. Well, so long Drew. I'll send you a snap or a text tomorrow morning." Greyson looked upset.

Drew looked down at the floor and back up to make eye contact with Greyson. "Can you hug me? I mean, you don't have to, but,” Greyson gives Drew a good squeeze before he can finish talking.

"You aren't going to forget to text me right?" Drew maintains eye contact. "No, that would be entirely stupid of me. You can expect a text, or a snapchat. Probably a snap."

"Ok Greyson, let's go. Your dad is waiting." Dr. Johansen led Greyson out of the doorway and into the hall. "How was your stay?"

Greyson's face dropped. "Could have been a lot worse I suppose. The food tasted like cardboard though."

The doctor smiled. "I see you made a friend though right? Your dad was happy to hear that you had positive interactions with a boy your age."

Greyson raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "We're talking about the same guy right? Tall, beefy, bald, smells like the automotive section at a home depot?"

"Yeah. That's a pretty good description." Dr. Johansen laughs. "Ok kid, here we are."

"Oh god, Greyson! Come here!"

"Dad, I'm fine." Greyson avoids looking at his father's sad face.

Greyson's father walked up to him and pulled him into his arms. Greyson tensed up his body and growled quietly. "We're going to go to lunch and have a big talk."

Greyson swallowed nervously. "Uh, yeah okay."

The walk to the car was mostly silent and anxiety filled, until the door opened to Greyson's mother holding a little brown teddy bear and crying. "Oh my god momma calm down I was only gone a few days." Greyson wraps his arms around his mother.

"Oh just look at that arm, sweety what were you thinking? I thought I was going to lose you. They called and said suicide, and..." Greyson started crying and grabbed the teddy bear.

"Really a stuffed bear momma? Very manly, I like it." Greyson's mother laughed.

"See Diane, I told you he was to old for a damn teddy bear." Greyson rolled his eyes.

"Dad, she gave it a football helmet. That's adorable. Don't pretend like you didn't have influence over that."

"You got me there. That was my idea." Greyson laughed.

The rest of the car ride was pretty quiet. They soon arrived at The Flying Pig. This was Greyson's favorite restaurant as a kid. The thought of hot barbeque ribs made him salivate.

"Hey kiddo, don't drool on my new vinyl seats." Greyson wiped off his mouth. "Whoops, sorry momma, my taste buds are preparing to be smothered in barbecue."

Greyson's mother smiled. "Ok boys, go get some seats while I find good parking."

After ten minutes Greyson and his parents were all sitting at a booth, Greyson on one side and his parents on the other. The waitress came around to take drink orders, but everyone already knew exactly what they were ordering.

The first few minutes the family sat in silence, until the waitress came back with the drinks. Greyson began slowly sipping on his blueberry lemonade. Greyson's mother cautiously grabbed hold of one of his hands. "Sweetie, your dad and I have been realizing how hard we have been on you these last few years. And I know that must have played a role in what happened. I'm not disappointed in you, you know that right?"

Greyson tried holding back his tears. "That's only true when I'm wearing myself out just to be what you want me to be. Especially dad. He's so focused on appearances. It's suffocating me, I don't understand why you think I'm such a burden on you."

Greyson's dad looked over to the mom in comfort, then turned his gaze over to his boy, "Grey, come on, you know I'm proud of you. I'm just trying to push you to be the best version of yourself, just like any dad would want for his only son."

"See that's exactly what I'm talking about, the superficial compassion. Do you know how hard it is for me to try to push myself to be more like you? You don't want me to be the best version of myself, you want me to be you! I'm sorry I'm not the son you hoped for. No matter how far I push myself, I will never be good enough. I'm sick in the head, and I'm a disgusting ass hole." Tears began streaming down his face and he tried to cover his face in his napkin.

Greyson's dad sighs as the waitress awkwardly sets the food down on the table and backs away. "If this is about the incident a few weeks ago, I'm really sorry I ever snooped around in your room, and I'm even more sorry about my poor choice of words."

"Dad, it's not about what you said in the moment, It's the look of disappointment on your face and that you meant every single word you said. And then you showed momma, like my shame and humiliation wasn't proof enough. And she was angry, and that's what hurt the most." Greyson shoved a piece of barbeque in his mouth and tried to casually dry his eyes.

"Grey, I'm sorry I overreacted. I just wasn't expecting to see magazine pages of that nature in my son's room. I know a lot of kids your age get curious and that it's probably nothing to be concerned about."

"Oh come on, you know it's about more than just that. You have put nothing but the heaviest pressure on me to find a girlfriend and to be your star football player just so you could show me off to the family. Never once have you praised me for anything else I have done. And when you do praise me you compare me to guys that are smaller and less athletic than me and put them down as if this is the only way to be a man. How do you think that feels to them, or me? It's like carrying around a boulder that's doing nothing but holding me back."

Greyson's father looks down at the table in shame. "I was wrong okay. Sometimes you don't realize how good something is until you almost lose it. Neither of us chooses a stupid unrealistic fantasy over our own son. I might not completely understand you, but I want to try before it's too late." Greyson grabbed his dad's hand and gave it a firm pat.

His mom joined her hand into the middle of the table. "Grey, I should have never gotten upset with you. I just want you to know, I also hid boys under my mactress at your age, so if anything it's my fault I passed on my dumb genes." Greyson laughed and playfully bopped her on the arm.

"Son, you don't have to answer this question if you're uncomfortable, but, why did you have those pictures under your bed?" Greyson blushed at his fathers question.

"Oh sweetie you don't have to answer that exact question. What I think he meant was, do you like boys, you know, in that way?"

"Really Diane? I think you just made him five times more uncomfortable. I'm sorry Grey, I didn't mean to start this, you can talk about it when you're good and ready." Greyson's stream of tears immediately returned back to his face.

"Dad, I'm scared. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I don't want to think about this shit. I'm supposed to be strong and I'm supposed to grow up and get married and be the man of the family. That's all you guys have ever wanted. Why can't I just at least do that. I never should have saved those stupid pictures, I know I shouldn't be enjoying things like that. I always feel so disgusted with myself." Greyson's mom wipes a fallen tear from her eye.

"Grey, when I was a boy, I had stolen one of my pa's sports illustrated magazines from his secret stash and carefully removed my favorite shots and hid them in my pillow case. My mother found them when she went to do my laundry and I was absolutely humiliated and my father couldn't have been more proud, even though my mother was furious and the fighting ensued. I couldn't even imagine what I had put you through. I was only thinking about myself. This is no different than what I had done. If you prefer looking at the mens pictures than so be it, just maybe hide the evidence better next time so you don't give your mother a heart attack. I don't think she was ready to see Tom Holland's half naked body, then again, neither was I." Greyson laughed awkwardly and stuffed his face with his final bite of barbeque.

"Oh yeah, please forget you ever saw that, please and thank you. I'd rather not know that you know about my thing for Tom Holland. It makes me want to erase my memory."

"Copy that. I never saw Tom Holland's muscles under your bed. You should also look into erasing your browser history a little bit more thoroughly, or maybe just use your phone next time." Greyson blushed and pulled his hoodie up over his face. He really didn’t think his parents were smart enough to check the history on his computer. Can a nineteen year old not live in peace?

"Dad! Dear god, please stop reminding me of my shame."