I'M NOT ADRIFT | Eminem

Out Somewhere

"Y'all are together...? Already?"
Handing me a plastic water bottle, he comes to sit beside me on the small couch.
I nod charismatically, sliding the pills in through my lips.
It sounds quick.
It feels quick for me, but I couldn't turn him down.
That would feel more horrible than saying yes.
"Damn, I thought he would just play games for a long while... wait- he did, for a fact, state y'all are together? Or do you just think that's what y'all are?"
Raising an eyebrow, he rests his arm along the length of the couch's back.
His face sprawls out in concern for a couple seconds.
Ah the girl who's never been in a relationship has mistaken a player's trickery for love and commitment! Silly schizophrenic child!

"No, he said it clear as day, he asked me and everything" I state, insisting on what I know to be true.
Hopefully.

I feel myself begin to calm as I sit on the comfortable but likely very cheap material of the fabric couch.
I do those stupid breathing exercises that really don't do much.
Breathe in for five seconds.
Hold for five seconds.
Breathe out for five seconds.
Repeat.
Imagine a box.

What can I see?
Dre.
What can I hear?
Not much. I hear distant talking and I hear Dre let out a sigh.
What can I feel.
The couch I guess? The water bottle in my hand?
Taste?
Saliva I guess...

"Ok... well congratulations? How do you feel about it..?" He always knows what to ask.
He's always got the best way of approaching things.
I glaze over slightly, unsure of how to answer the question truthfully.
I feel scared but also not at the same time?
I think I can handle it...
I think I'm ready for it..?

"I feel partially indifferent, as if it were a lifestyle change I'm not too worried about... but part of me feels that type of anxiety that can't be pinned on one thing. I know it's been birthed from saying yes, and I don't regret saying yes, but it's the type of dread that can't be cradled or quieted. I don't want to drag him down with my struggles, like I feel I do with you some times... I also don't want to hurt him accidentally..."
I frown at him, turning my gaze away from the water bottle cap I was fiddling with in order to get the words out.
He returns the expression, pursing his lips and glancing down to the carpet flooring.

"You don' weigh me down, you're just a different kind of person... when you're experiencing something stressful, I wanna help you like you're ma family... You're one of those people that I really care 'bout and I don' consider it a chore to help when you're struggling." He speaks the words as if bracing me for what he's about to say next.
Even still, I appreciate it.
Part of me doesn't believe him, but I'll just drive myself even more crazy if I contemplate it.
Besides, I don't want to be one of those people who's always like, 'are you sure?' all the time...

"So wit' that said... if Em really likes you or whatever he feels, then he won't be mad at chu for being who you are... he does know you's a schizophrenic now? Right?" Dang, does Dre not trust me at all?
I'm sure he does but... I don't know... I mean, I would obviously tell Marshall.

"Yeah, yeah he knows" I nod off, confirming the very important information.
I would never enter a relationship without telling someone that.
"Does he talk about his interests and disinterests relating to girls with you?" I randomly blurt the question out before he has a chance to come up with something else to say.

He chuckles loudly, used to my very blunt questions yet still finding them funny.
"Yo, Nisha, Imma tell you right now, nothing he complains about is anywhere near a facet of your personality. You'll be fuckin' fine" He grins widely, laughing off the question, finding it silly for me to ask.
This relieves me slightly.
I give him a blank look before nodding for the fifty-millionth time.
"An' if you think somethin's wrong, which by the way, he'll make it clear, then you gotta just talk to em. Like me an' Nicole... open communication. Em's the kind of guy who'll claim he ain't mad but proceed to tear the thing he's angry about to little shreds... so keep that in mind and you'll know"
I listen intently, noting that I've never really seen him mad.
Maybe sexually frustrated or confused but not necessarily angry.