Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) (21 page)

I should be scared of that, bothered by it, but I actually find it oddly comforting and I don’t fully understand why that is. Maybe it’s because I, myself, have only recently come out to a small handful of people and while that proved easier than I expected it to be, it’s still not all of America. It’s not the public side of Peacock, bassist for 69 Bottles.

SOMEWHERE in our conversation, we decided to take separate cars to dinner. I could see that it would make it a little easier on Calvin, though I can’t say I fully understood why until the end of the night when we parted ways. He returned to his apartment and I returned to mine.
 

Dinner was great, just like old times. The fun and bantering back and forth took the front seat over the weight of what we’d discussed in the last twenty-four hours. Only once did the topic get brought up and it didn’t come until we were saying our goodnights. He asked if I still planned to see Dr. V in the morning and I didn’t hesitate to tell him yes. He seemed happy about that. I remember thinking it was odd; that he wanted me to go to the one person who likely knew him better than he knows himself, but yet I take great comfort in knowing that he trusts me enough with his secrets to go to the one man who can tell me everything.
 

Dr. Vincent Rocko, at least that’s what the sign on the door said when I stepped into the plush waiting area. Though void of a receptionist, the sign on the door says that he is in and will be with me shortly. Okay, not me specifically, but yeah, pretty efficient if you ask me.
 

At ten minutes to ten, the inner office door opens and out comes a young woman with tears streaming down her face, but she thanks the doctor before quickly leaving the reception area through the door I’d come in. I did my best to avoid looking at her. I can only imagine some of the many things that happen behind that door.
 

“Eric?” I hear a baritone voice coming from inside the room.
 

“Yes, sir?” I stand and move toward the same doorway that the woman had just exited.
 

“Can you lock the door for me?”
 

“Uh, sure,” I say hesitantly and turn on my heel, back toward the door I’d come in and I flip the deadbolt lock closed and return to the doorway.
 

“Come on in, you can close that door or leave it open. No one will be coming in here today.”
 

I leave the door open and walk into the even plusher, oversized sitting area that is his therapy room. The room is relatively dark, considering the idea that a therapist is supposed to lift your spirits and not to bring you down. The walls are a dark gray, the furniture a mix of blacks and browns. Everything ranging from a couch, a loveseat, a couple of chairs fill the space and my eyes land on the infamous lounger you see in movies. “Oh, don’t mind that thing. I never use it,” Dr. V says from behind me and I turn to face him.
 

The man is nearly as tall as I am, skinnier, but none the less intimidating and the furthest thing I expected to see when I met him.
 

“I’m Dr. Vincent, or Doctor V as Calvin likes to call me. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Eric.” He extends his hand to me and I take it. His grip is firm, yet warm and comforting.
 

“It’s nice to meet you. Though I wish I could say I knew something about you, I don’t really.” I'm surprisingly very nervous about this meeting.
 

Dr. V’s warming smile is a comfort I certainly didn’t expect. He gestures toward the couch. “Grab a seat and we’ll get started.” I nod and move to the couch, sitting in the corner, pulling my foot under my thigh and leaning into it. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I watch as he finds his way back to an oversized, very comfortable looking chair and sprawled out in front of him are several manila file folders, patient folders. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk a little bit about you before we dive into Calvin.” He makes a subtle gesture over the folders laid out before him.
 

“Are those all his?” I swallow hard.
 

“They are. Not all of them are mine, however. Calvin has a long history in therapy and he and I have only been working together for a couple of years. It took me until recently to finally acquire what I believe is his entire history.”
 

“Including the institution?” I ask.

“Yes,” he nods, “including there.”
 

I swallow, finding the strength to pull my eyes away from the stack of folders and onto Dr. V as I take a deep breath. “What would you like to know?”
 

He cocks his head, no doubt something all therapists love to do. “What would you like to tell me?”
 

I snort. “I've never done this before,” I tell him and it’s the truth.
 

“Well, why don’t you start with how old you are, where you’re from, about your parents, things like that.”
 

I launch into surprising detail about being twenty-eight, from Denver and who my parents are, what they do and where they are now. All the while Dr. V listens with rapt attention and scribbles a few notes.
 

“Tell me, Eric, have you come out to your parents?” he finally asks the elephant question.
 

“I have,” I tell him.

“How long ago?”
 

I look up like I’m thinking, counting actually. “About thirteen years ago, when I was fifteen.”
 

“How did they take it?”
 

I snort. “My mom knew, probably before I did, my father never denied it or approved it. In fact, I’m pretty sure he didn’t pay attention until I brought home my first guy friend.”
 

“What happened then?”
 

I shake my head. “Nothing. My father was always a workaholic. Constantly on the phone, in and out of the house, things like that. My mom and I are much closer, even to this day, and my father is now retired.”
 

“So you’ve had a much different experience in coming out than Calvin has. How does that make you feel?”
 

I roll my eyes. “It’s just how it was for me, I don’t know that I can honestly dwell on the differences between us when it comes to coming out, or living a more ‘outed’ lifestyle. Unlike Calvin, I really had nothing to fear.”
 

He makes a few notes before he steeples his fingers under his chin. “Okay, I am sure you have a million questions about Calvin.”
 

“My question pool has drained quite a bit over the last twenty-four hours.”
 

He smiles in approval. “Good. But I imagine as we talk, more questions will be raised. I’d like you to start with one of your more pressing questions.”
 

That’s too easy. “How do I fix this?”
 

He smiles, lowers his hands and nods his head. “You can’t fix it.” I know my expression falls. “Only he can make that choice and all you, or even I, can do is support him in that choice.”
 

“How do I do that exactly?” I ask. I know I can’t fix him, but I want to. I want to be his salvation, but I know I’m going to have to settle for being his reason to overcome his demons.
 

“That, I’m pretty sure, is the reason why you’re here today.”
 

“One of them, the other is just to better understand the things that are in his head and what is going on when he panics. I’ve seen it three times now and the first two times I chalked it up to bad timing and too much alcohol, the other was yesterday. Though I’m pretty sure I did that.”
 

He cocks his head questioningly. “Please explain why you say that?”
 

“Because I attempted to take control. He’s kissed me now three times since he told me everything, each time it was at his doing. The first time was a very slow process, but he managed through it and it was…” I sigh at the memory, “amazing. The second time he took me by surprise when I opened the door to my apartment. He was so freaked out that something had happened to me, or that I’d shoved him off to the back burner, that he came to my apartment and when he saw me, he pretty much charged at me.” I watch a smile spread over Dr. V’s lips, it’s one of genuine happiness, something I didn’t expect to see with him. “The third time, he’d followed me into my bedroom so I could throw on a t-shirt and things got heated pretty quick, not to mention the fact that we were in my bedroom. I told him that he was pushing the limits of my control and that was when he locked up.”
 

“You seem to have a theory behind why you caused that. Can you explain that to me?”
 

“That depends on whether or not you’re going to tell me if I’m right or wrong?”
 

“Perhaps,” he states simply.
 

“It’s easier when he’s in control. He can take the lead, control the situation, stop it from escalating too far to the point that he’ll get hurt.”
 

“You’re right.” He is very matter of fact with his answer. “Calvin has been raped, multiple times, more times than either one of us want to try to count or analyze, so for him, it is easier when he knows he has control of the situation. It’s not dominance or posturing by any means, it is just the way he knows how to feel comfortable in the situation. It’s how he is going to have to work through the numerous things that are going through his head when it comes to you, or any man for that matter.” The idea of Calvin being with another man sends a shiver of disappointment through me. “He needs to be able to trust you, fully, before he will be able to turn himself over to you completely. I’m sure that if you take a look at the relationships he’s had with females or his sexual exploits with them, they were easier because he could take control of the situation easier. When it comes to men, the only thing he knows anymore is what it’s like to be controlled. Giving yourself over to his control is the easiest way for him to work through his side of this. Once he starts to see that what the two of you potentially have is completely different than anything he’s ever known, things will start to shift inside of him. He’ll start letting go of the darkness that grabs hold of him.”

I ponder what Dr. V is saying, and it falls right along with my earlier theory, a theory about how he needs to feel in control in order to find his ability to trust me. “I can give that to him,” I say softly, but there is a deep conviction in my words that I start to feel as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
 

“Good.”