What do the stars feel when they look at Us?

Chapter 19: Habituality

The evening felt like it was full of opaque haze up until one point that I remember quite clearly.

I sat next to Merlin and Oscar.

It felt like I had just woken up and the last few hours hadn't even happened.

I didn't remember the looks Linda might have given me. Or how my legs and feet felt when I walked up to the park. Or just..., anything.

What I did remember in that moment was the dream I had the night before.

-

It was way past 12.

I woke up with a bellyache.

It felt like my whole upper body had become liquid and collected itself in a puddle.

All of these images were roaming along a line between factual history and my brain's fantastical wishful thinking.

My dad sat down with me in the dimly lit kitchen.

I gulped down some medicine.

He went through his hair with his long, pointy fingers.

Full of exhaustion.

And sleep deprivation.

But no matter how tired he felt, as soon as he noticed me looking at him, he smiled.

After every possible sign of relief, after every sign of betterment he could get out of me.

It was a weird feeling of safety and calm euphoria.

I was the centre of someone else's universe.

And I was aware of it.

I could depend on someone.

Truly and fully.

I was able to give my life into someone else's hands.

And it was worth it.

And significant.

Happiness was so versatile in the end.

I could never fully catch its meaning.

Because it was different to different people.

And different to every situation.

Back then I was happy.

Even though parts of me weren't.

And he helped me feel that way.

Always.

Till he left.

Maybe that's the reason why I didn't feel anything.

For like ten to twelve years.

After he died.

-

The thought of these memories was paralysing.

The cheering sounds of community surrounding me were numbingly echoing throughout the field.

Soft colours and hints of shadows showed up in front of my face. I felt pressure on my wrist. I probably stood up. Followed someone.

It felt like flying to someplace that wasn't so horribly immobilizing.

Dark shades all across the board. Trees. Lack of light. Solitary freedom.

I could barely stand.

But with the noise leaving my ears and my eyes having less and less to see – I finally managed to get a grip again.

Like the grip I felt that was now leaving my arm and hand.

"Ben, are you alright?"

It was Linda.