You Must Be the One

Tan- 2/2

A hot shower and some tea later, I feel better, more clear headed. Even so, I don't know how to address Stefani's concerns and from how quiet she is, it's apparent that she doesn't quite know how to go about it either.

We sit on the sofa, hands in our laps. Stefani's fixed us lunch---sandwiches and fruit, but both of our plates sit on the coffee table untouched.

The truth was her worries weren't entirely unfounded. I hadn't set out to do deliberate harm; that was never my intention. Instead, I could easily see myself drifting away out there, out to sea, leaving my body. It would've been so easy, just to let go. I didn't.

But I could have.

The realization shakes me to my core, and I feel the hands set firmly on my thighs begin to tremble.

She curls her legs up towards her chest, takes one hand, lacing her tepid fingers with my much colder ones.

"You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

I did want to talk, though. The proper words eluded me.

"I scared you," I hear myself say. "I can't apologize enough."

"You don't have to."

"Truthfully? I scared the shit out of myself."

She waits for me to talk, nodding slightly.

What makes her a wonderful actress is her ability to listen, same thing that makes her an exemplary human being. Being in the industry as long as I have, you learn that most people are highly skilled at talking, not so much with the listening portion.

Not Stef. She innately understood when to let someone else go on, even in cases like mine, where the other person was scrambli upng to find the correct thing to say.

"I don't want to die."

It's the first thing that pops out of my mouth, the first thought that's remotely coherent and I hate how it doesn't sound like me. How frightened it comes across.

"I know," she concurs softly. Her fingernails scratch the lightest of trails over my arm hair. "I know exactly what that's like."

It both makes me feel far less alone and saddens me deeply that she understands this strange in between. Having everything to live for and at the same time, being lost. Wondering when the other shoe will drop because it almost always does.

I try to swallow past the tightness that's been building behind my voice box. "It hurts me that you know."

She plants her lips on my jaw, closing her eyes. "It's never over. We fight and then we rest, but we never relax, do we?"

I smile tightly. "Don't think I know how to. Keeping busy definitely helps. But when I'm not..."

"Yeah. It's when you're alone with the silence is the hard part. Because that's when your thoughts come for you. It's a fucking scary place to be."

"It's funny, though. As much as running around and hyper focusing and all of that is a distraction, I still feel alone. You know? I could be in a room of a thousand people and the fucking loneliness is awful. Yet I push people away because the last thing I wanna be is an albatross. I pushed you away."

There it is, what's been weighing on my mind for two years now---this terrifying thought that I ruined everything with someone I treasure because of my stupid, ridiculous inadequacies. I blew it.

And this is it ----I know I'm crying, can tell by the way the back of my throat burns and my eyelashes begin to stick, the stinging behind my eyes.

I used to see no problem with tears. I let them flow freely, encouraged everyone to do the same. I hadn't been able to cry in months and it felt even longer than that.