reputation | a doah story

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

"And therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you, get you on the phone and mind-twist you, and so I took an axe to a mended fence." - 'This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things' by Taylor Swift

It's so new to me, I just can't explain it. Noah doesn't care about fancy cars, nice things, or the opportunities he could get just by being attached to me. He truly only cares about me. Not only does he not need an 'allowance,' but he takes me where my lame exes never could. He just –.

Dixie was cut off from writing in her journal by Noah barging into her bedroom. She jumped, shaken to have her intimate moment interrupted. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" she scoffed with an eye roll. "Sorry, I was just too excited to see you, I couldn't wait another second." he teased leaning over her on the bed where she was sitting to greet her with a kiss.

Dixie beamed back at him, her annoyance instantly disappearing with his kind nature. It was impossible to stay mad at him. "What's that?" he questioned, gesturing to the black leather-bound book in her hands. Dixie instinctively held it closer to her chest as she leaned away from him.

"It's just my journal. I've written in one since I was 16. It was an exercise my therapist made me start after my seizures started and I've just kind of stuck with it since, it helps me clear my head." Dixie explained. Noah nodded and sat down next to her, snaking his arm around her waist for comfort as he kissed her head.

Dixie had a tough last week. A former classmate leaked an old rumor about her, detailing how she used to "fake" seizures to get out of class. This, of course, was false; well at least the faking part was. Dixie did have PNES, which caused non-epileptic seizures due to anxiety. They were so bad when they started, she had to take time off of school to heal. That's when the terrible rumors started swirling amongst her former classmates. She was bullied so badly over her mental health she had to switch high schools as part of her recovery process.

The rumor re-spreading around the internet was hard on Dixie. Not only were people hateful and nasty to her, but it brought back old traumas of the same exact situation happening to her when she was younger. This time she had Noah though. He was her rock through the entire situation, somehow always knowing the right thing to stay to guide her through her PTSD.

Her immediate reaction was to shut everything out. She turned off her comments and went dark on her social accounts. Unlike last time where she was able to switch high schools, she wasn't able to switch internets. There was no running away from her problems this time.

Noah had gently guided her through her feelings, thoughtfully reminding her how strong she was for overcoming her hardship the first time and how much she had grown since then. "Maybe you could use this as an opportunity to spread awareness about PNES and bullying. You have this incredible platform to help others become just as strong as you." he had tenderly urged her through his comfort.

She had felt so bad that he had to see her like that. It was way too early in their new bestie relationship for him have to be that level of support to her, but he handled it perfectly and didn't run the second he saw her at her lowest. Noah wasn't reading what the world was calling her lately, he was the only person who knew the real her.

"So, do you start every entry with dear diary? How does this journaling thing work?" Noah joked as he rubbed her back. Dixie closed the book and dropped it to her side to keep the secrets she poured out in it safe. 

"Ugh, no. Sometimes I write entire essays about my day, other times it's just doodles, little phrases I think of or terrible poetry. It depends on my mood, it's just a way to get my head straight," she began explaining, "I still have all my old journals. I don't know what to do with them but throwing them away feels like throwing a piece of me away." Noah responded by pulling her on top of him so she was straddling him on his lap. He kissed her deeply and pressed his forehead against hers.