On Friday morning, one of the girls noticed Hugh's door was open. He sleeps with it closed, lives in there with it closed, really. He wasn't in there. His shoes weren't on the mat either. The last anyone noticed him was Lucy seeing his light on around midnight. They had been chatting in the hall earlier and then she went to paint her nails. Rob said he noticed the open door before he left, between 6:30am and 7am.
Although Hugh sometimes went out in the late evening, and/or came home in the early hours, this was totally not normal. My heart was sinking. I texted him once the girls were gone to school.
It took him nearly an hour to respond. A terribly long 52 minutes. And like his usual style, no real answer.
It took him 36 minutes to respond. The reason I asked was we have a large general hospital in the next city over, but in this town we have a large psychiatric hospital.
Rob called the hospital around 7:45pm. He had just been admitted and the nurse asked him if he would talk to us. He said he was tired, wanted to sleep and would call us later. My texts have all gone unanswered.
We haven't heard anything since; it's Monday 1:50pm. Last night at 10:40pm Rob called again. He said the nurses said they encouraged him to reach out to us but he won't. Rob is furious. Said he doesn't want him to come home then. He doesn't approve of transgender, so he won't accept it. Here I am breaking into a million pieces and I have to rationalize with him, get him to realize that he's focusing on the negative articles, reports, studies so all he will see is negativity. I'm not happy about the changes, but it's not up to me. My hang ups about it are purely my own and selfish, and I own that.
Rob thinks I should go to the hospital. I can't. Hugh and I are both non-confrontational. And I am breaking so bad that I don't think I could leave there.
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