STARGIRL, alexia putellas

22. october blues

I  never did tell Alexia about that encounter at the restaurant with Ona and my drunken mother, not that I didn't want her to know but because there wasn't really any point in it, as nothing awful or pivotal had actually happened. Ona went back to finish her contract with Manchester shortly after anyway and life just seemed to... carry on. And on. And on. And on. 

I woke up to the sound of rain tapping on the window like a morose drummer in a melancholic band. Ah, October—the month when the weather perfectly mirrors my internal state. My therapist - yes, don't worry I do have one - would probably call it Seasonal Affective Disorder, but I like to think of it as Nature's way of saying, "Let's make Isabela feel like crap for a few months." The autumn leaves might have been turning vibrant hues, but inside, everything felt like a perpetual shade of grey.

I mechanically went through the motions, trying to slap on a smile and pretend that life was a vibrant, whimsical funfair. Newsflash: it wasn't. It was more like a dilapidated carnival where the rides were rusty, the clowns were creepy, and the cotton candy was probably infested with something nasty. The days were getting shorter, and so was my tolerance for, well, everything. The vibrant hues of autumn seemed more like a cruel joke than a picturesque scene. I'd be lying if I said the gloomy weather wasn't the perfect backdrop for the storm cloud looming over my head.

Alexia, ever the perceptive one, noticed the subtle shifts in my demeanour. The forced laughter that didn't quite reach my eyes, the half-hearted responses, the distant stares into the abyss that was my own mind. She'd seen it all before, the recurring guest named Depression who barged in uninvited. It's like having a detective for a girlfriend, minus the cool gadgets and magnifying glass. 

It was the early evening after a particularly rough day at training, I leaned against the window sill in the lounge, feeling all low and lethargic and loser-y.

Alexia saunters in, I feel her dark, watchful eyes on me as she sits languidly on the sofa. "Isabela." She calls softly.

I turn to face her, she smiles and opens her arms. "Come here, mi amor."

Nodding, I sigh and trudge over to the sofa, collapsing into Alexia's embrace like a deflated balloon. Her arms wrap around me, a comforting cocoon in the midst of the internal storm. If only a hug could fix the mess inside my head, but life isn't that simple, is it?

"Rough day?" she asks, her fingers gently tracing circles on my back. It's a soothing gesture, and for a moment, I forget about the rain outside, the gloomy weather, and the fact that my brain seems to have taken a detour into the dark alley of despair.

"Rough month," I mutter, my voice a tired echo of my usual sarcasm.

Alexia sighs, not in a frustrated way, but in that understanding manner that makes me both grateful and guilty. "You know, you don't have to carry the weight of the world on those  shoulders of yours."

I pull back, meeting her gaze. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one stuck with this brain."

She smirks, a hint of her usual playful demeanour breaking through. "True, but I am the one in love with the person stuck with that brain. So, in a way, it's my problem too."

I roll my eyes, half-amused, half-exhausted. "Congratulations, you've won the grand prize—a moody girlfriend with a penchant for self-deprecating humour."

She leans in, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "Lucky me."

We sit in silence for a while, the rain outside tapping quietly on the windows. I can't help but appreciate the simplicity of this moment—the warmth of her presence, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the knowledge that, even on my darkest days, I'm not alone.

"Bella, talk to me," she urged, her voice soothing.

I bit my lip, hesitating to unleash the tempest brewing within me. 

She leaned back to look into my eyes, concern etching lines on her forehead. "You know you can tell me anything."

Anything, huh? Even the messy, tangled thoughts that echoed like a broken record in my mind? Even the fear that I was turning into a shadow of myself?