universe | ✓

one day at a time ⇝ flash sentry

❝When it's overwhelming,
hold on tight, I'll be here,
don't forget it.❞

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ONE DAY AT A TIME

Flash Sentry

He hates that voice in his head.

He tries to block it with music but the only songs he can handle are slow, songs that tell him it's all right or you'll be okay but he doesn't believe it. His breath seems louder than it actually is, a lot shakier. The pen falls from his hand onto squared paper, he picks it up only to put it back down. It's fuzzy, eyes tired, numbers on the page that he can't bring himself to finish off.

The sun peeks through the curtains, yellow overlay on the carpet, sharp calm shadows. Evening's bright, light sinking over his head. Anxiety plays in the summer.

He knows what the person on the other end of his phone is probably texting him, worried. The black device stays in his peripheral view, screen lighting up. He narrows his eyes.

No, no, you're not annoying, who told you that? he guesses.

He did. His head told him that. His head is still telling him that, thinking back to the conversation he had with another one of his close friends, you're not annoying when you ramble.

Yes, he is. He never makes sense when he rambles, he can't even speak English properly and that's his first language. He notices the way people act, how they shift, how they meaninglessly nod. He's annoying when he can't get Maths right, he's annoying when he gets Music right, he's annoying and he can't fucking stop telling himself that.

His chest tightens. Shutupshutupshutup.

Tomorrow, he'll forget about this. Get annoyed at himself for not revising properly maybe. But he'll only break down next month when he's in the uncomfy space of his head.

Throat aches when he cries, eyebrows pull in, back teeth grit together.

The song that plays in his ears doesn't stop the tears, he feels bare, stripped down for too long. He pulls his hoodie over to cover his chest. He can't tell the difference between crying without or with comfort, even if they are probably different if he had the latter, right now they feel the same. Warm arms around his shoulders will only let him collapse and even if he needs it now, it's scary.

His hoodie sleeve burns the skin of his cheeks. He sniffles, eyes dry.

He doesn't want to say it's just his anxiety. Because he feels pathetic that he succumbs to it so easily when it hits him. Because it's one of those days and it's embarrassing. Because you know you're annoying when you use your anxiety as an excuse.

He knows he's allowed to feel whatever he wants, he tells others that whenever they're in a spot like this. It's just... hard to accept that and be sad too. Crying isn't such a pleasant feeling either. He wants a cosy smile and a tight hug but he cries more at the thought, drowning.

After wiping the wetness for God knows how many'th time, RnB soothes his head as he mouths along to the lyrics, swallowing to stop the trembling. He sits up, head lifting when he pulls himself out of that shadow.

His hand itches, so he grabs at his phone and switches it on, clicking on the message notification first. The first message isn't what he thought it was.

Anxiety? :(

yeah

i hate it so much

The three dots bounce.

Give me five minutes.

A moment later, the song ends and he hears bicycle chains by the large gates.

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❝'Cause in life sometimes we need a
helping hand, you'll be all right,
just take it slow, one day at a time.❞

– one day at a time by ateez