I am really thankful for Francesco. His conversation helped me, and made me realize that I really do love Elias. And, this wasn't some middle-school relationship type of love; it was a profound and deep love.
His love consumed me, leaving me craving for his presence and shattered in his absence. When we spent time together, time seemed to halt, and in every passing moment, I realized I could remain embraced in his arms for eternity. I could only hope that his feelings mirrored mine.
When the doubts crept in-why would he reciprocate Lorena?
You're not enough.
You're just going to end up dying alone.
Such depressing thoughts lingered in my mind.
Trying to get my mind off of my sorrows, I contemplated my next steps. I was running late at night, which also was an attempt to get my mind off things. It occurred to me that seeking clarity from my parents about their problem with Elias was necessary. Francesco encouraged me to do so, affirming it as the right course of action in the long term. So, that was the plan.
I reached for my phone in my left jacket pocket, paused my music for a moment, and went into my messages at a crosswalk.
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Me: Hello Mamma, I was wondering if we could have dinner this friday (with Papa too, of course)
Mamma: I thought you were still mad at us ??? 😳
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I cringed at my mother's new attempt at trying to connect with the younger generations. She was peppering her texts with more emojis than ever before and sending me memes that felt outdated by at least 5 years. Despite her efforts to lighten the mood with her excessive emojis, there was still a lingering hint of pettiness from our recent disagreement. Still, I would just try to persist and see what she would say.
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Me: Please can we just have dinner as a family for one night?
Mamma: Yes, I guess so. But, I pick the meal and place. 😎 It will be my house and I will cook. Also, you're going to like it Lorena! 😁
Me: Alright then.
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With a sigh of resignation, I abandoned the attempt to converse with my mother anymore and I shifted my attention to my surroundings once more. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I catch a breath before I have to resume my run.
As I set off into the night, I couldn't shake my feeling of unease. My breaths felt abnormal, and I wondered if that's because I am anxious.
Nighttime runs weren't my usual routine, but tonight seemed different. I had an impulse, urging me to pound the complex pavement beneath me with each step, the rhythm of my music driving me onward.
My heart matched the tempo of my rapid footsteps: thump, thump, pause, thump, thump, pause.
When I paced myself in the direction of home, I started to wheeze. My breaths spiraled out of control as if invisible walls were closing in around me. Desperate to escape the suffocating sensation, I pushed myself to run faster, but the feeling intensified, evolving into a desperate panting.
Recognition dawned on me: this was a panic attack. Memories of my past experiences flickered through my mind, but none matched the intensity of this moment. Panic attacks were unpredictable beasts, offering no guarantees of their duration or any aid of others.
In an attempt to maintain focus, I raised my left hand to my head, trying to assess my condition through my blurry vision. A concerned voice broke through my turmoil, a woman was running up to me, her eyes filled with worry.
"Hey, are you alright?" I notice how my hands are trembling uncontrollably.
"Um, yes," I managed to respond. She instructed me to name three things that I could see and asked for my name, her touch grounding me in the moment.
"Um, my name is Lorena," I gasped. Breathe, Lorena breathe. "I see a woman, my hand, and the grass."
She nods at me. "Very good." I counted backwards in threes from 100 as she instructed, each number feeling like a lifeline guiding me back to my stability.
"100, 97, 94, 91," I feel my heart beat finally slowing down into some normalcy, as my breath regains control, "88, 85, 82," I say as I finally take a deep breath.
The silence that followed was defeating, but when I opened my eyes, she remained by my side, her presence being a comforting gesture.
"Thank you," I tell her, relief flooding every part of my body.
"You're welcome," she replies to me, a shared understanding passing between us. "I've been there too." She smiles at me.
"I really should get home now." I inhale and exhale once again, focusing on their rhythm. My breaths are now steady and controlled.
"Okay, stay safe." She smiles again at me and I walk back to my home.
What is happening to me?
YOU ARE READING
Romanticismo Per Caso ❤
RomansaOne enchanting day, Elias Johansson walked into Offredi's Restaurant. He takes a glance at Lorena and immediately knew that she was going to be a challenge to start working with. This does not mean that this challenge wasn't going to entail romanc...
