We get so complicated

I had to tell Craig. He actually deserved to know.

What if something completely horrible had happened to Max while he was on tour with our child? What if he passes out again or what if the baby get sick while inside of him? What if the baby dies?

I could hear screaming from Max’s room.

Oh god, not again.

“Max?” I yelled, racing as fast as I could, up the stairs and into his room.

He was sitting up, crossed legged, slicing his nails over his pale skin in misery. He was bleeding. “I don’t want to go.” He sobbed.

“I don’t want to go.” He kept on sobbing and repeating.

Okay, the plan now is to tell Craig as soon as possible.

“Hey Max?” I asked gently.

“What?” He shot, sharply glancing over at me and seeming now angry.

“You know that Craig and Robert need to know about this, right?” I asked gently.

“Don’t tell Craig! Don’t tell Robert! Don’t tell anyone!” Max cried slicing his skin with his nails again.

It pained me to watch him destroy himself like this. He was getting under so much emotional stress. It killed me.

“Max-” I started, but was abruptly cut off.

“Just get out. GET OUT!”

I backed off and not to set him off any more, exited the room and went to Max’s spare bedroom and sat down.

I hope he’s okay.