The drive was awful.

I felt sick, I felt numb. I couldn't look at Eric, I questioned every move I'd made. I wondered if in the end, our breakup would have been because of me. I wondered where I had the right to take control of someone's life for him, even Eric. Even my lover.

I never wanted to come to the clinic in San Diego.

But of course we did. We pulled into the parking lot.

*****

The therapist I'd spoken to about Eric, Hank, had the day off. We were registered and taken to Eric's room, the place he'd live for the next three months. It was a gorgeous place-- the room, the clinic, the grounds. The place was situated not far from the University of San Diego on the cliffs of the Pacific, acres of beautifully landscaped grounds, lawns, trees, palms and evergreen. The place looked more like some rich man's mansion than a clinic for the sexually dysfunctional.

But it was still a prison. Even though there were no bars, no guards, no barbed wire-- it was a prison. And I was locking up Eric Lewis.

*****

I was rambling on and on as we went towards the parking lot. I was giving an endless monologue about NOTHING-- but I couldn't stop. I said over and over and over, "it's okay...this is the right thing to do...it's okay...this is the right thing to do. "

Finally, Eric stopped me.

"Drew, you are sounding like Mom. "

I smiled, he was joking. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"I'll miss you so much, Eric. I'm so sorry this had to happen, I-- I-- I'm gonna call you every day, every single day. I love you. I love you, Eric. Please know that I'm doing this because I love you. "

"I love you too, " he said. "I wouldn't have agreed to this ridiculous thing if I didn't love you. And you shouldn't call me, Drew. Wait for me to call you, okay? I, I think it's the best...some time apart for us. I've really got to get my head together...so don't call. Please. Don't call. "

And he turned and walked away and went back inside. I waited for him to turn around at the last minute and smile, or wave, or just turn and look at me. But he didn't.

And why should he?

*****

It took me a hundred miles back to Los Angeles before I could stop crying. But in the end, Eric going to this clinic was a good thing and we both knew it.

In the end, this would be good. I just kept telling myself, this was a good thing. This was a very good thing.