Meet me in the Middle

Chapter 9

'Cause I let you in when I needed space
And you crossed a line when I pushed you away'
- Jessie Murph, How Could You (https://open.spotify.com/track/7wB9sL81rFRGhRt6msZ9CV?si=c3aa4b93a77544e2

"Shhh mia amata. It was just a bad dream. I'm right here, bambina. Sei il mio tutto - You're my everything. Wake up..." My head is pounding, and the clouds keep pulling me back into their soft and light embrace, but I fight because I'd rather be in my wife's loving arms. I claw at her trying to make my way back to her. She is lifting my head by the back of my neck, and I'm hoping above all else that she is going to breathe life into me.

"...you disgust me... Look at the disgrace you've become." The hand on the back of my neck loses its gentle touch and the grip starts to hurt. Carina's voice becomes deeper and familiar. "Wake up, you worthless piece of shit!" I scream as memories of my childhood runs a marathon through my brain. I try desperately to remove the hand from its position after it snaked around to the front of my throat to squeeze the life out of me.

My eyes fly open and I'm not looking into the liquid pools of honey I want to drown in, but into the cold and piercing blue ones so much like my own. I'm paralyzed by fear as I see his fist clench and move towards my face at an alarming speed.

I startle awake before my father lays a hand on me. I scramble backwards against the bedside table and hit my head on the end of it from the sheer force of my escape. I finally manage to take a full breath and hold it in hoping the stars floating around my head will dissipate.

My alarm goes off on my phone and I see that I already missed the first one. That must've been what had woken me up. I dismiss any further snoozes and realize that it was time to get ready for my shift. I open Diane's number, concerned that I passed out for almost eight hours due to a panic attack.

"What do you think you're doing, kiddo? She is the department psychiatrist. You honestly think she gives a flying fuck about your failed relationship? Stop being so fucking pathetic and stop letting everyone see how weak you truly are!" My dad's voice is deafening, and I look up at the door to make sure he wasn't actually standing there.

I get up on shaky legs and make my way to the bathroom to get ready for shift. Maybe a scolding hot shower will wash away the lingering sensation of being engulfed in the clouds. I make the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror and see a thin line of blood running down my hairline at my temple from where I hit my head against the nightstand. I walk closer to see the damage I did to myself, hoping I didn't need any stitches. The cut is superficial. I swipe my finger over it and it immediately stops bleeding and doesn't hurt.

As I turn around to get into the shower, I see the angry red line across my throat and my hand instinctively reaches up to touch it. A perfect match to my hand being wrapped around my neck. Did I strangle myself while I was in the midst of my nightmare? No, that can't be. My dad was the one who hurt me, wasn't he?

I've been numb since leaving the apartment. I kept making the temperature in the shower hotter until I was practically standing under boiling water hoping to chase away the freezing burn of rejection when my body, soul and mind just became numb to everything.

The few times this particular feeling crept in I would crawl into bed with Carina for a few minutes, her warmth being the only thing to melt the ice running through my veins. If she was at work, I would get dressed in something of hers and let the smell of her smooth the ache, but there was nothing left.

I hated that I used scented candles for my surprise. Before, a faint scent of Carina always hung in the air, and it comforted me more than I knew. Now, the only smell in the apartment was melted wax and loneliness. The essence of Carina left with her, and the apartment was just four walls now. There was no home to come back to.