Assistant manager- [M.S]

39

Alyssa Wilkins

I should be scared to be alone. That's how I would normally feel, anyway.

The feeling of being alone is terrifying, whether that is literally standing by yourself in a room of people, or when your brain is telling you that you're alone, and you feel like you have no one to turn to.

I have struggled with both possibilities my entire life.

Getting on the school bus every morning was one of the worst feelings I had to endure during a solid ten years of my life, which most people would find ridiculous.

There was something about walking to and from the bus stop every day that made me feel sick to my stomach, and I would eventually start sprinting back like I was in a race because I was so afraid someone was around, even though I knew that wasn't the case.

And then when my sister was in kindergarten, I was in second grade, and I had to start putting on a brave face for her, but I failed miserably. I used to grab her backpack off her shoulders and carry it for her while I encouraged her to sprint inside with me, but she would cry that she couldn't keep up, which would only scare her more.

Or when I was in high school, I would lay in bed at night and count as high as I could, trying to distract my mind and fall asleep without letting my thoughts take me somewhere else, somewhere that would lead me down a rabbit hole until I hit rock bottom.

My dad would hear my mumbling numbers as I slept, and he of course thought something was wrong. I didn't have the heart to tell him about the thoughts circling in my head, so I let him believe I was some kind of math genius until I bombed one of my tests.

That's besides the point.

No matter the circumstance, being alone was a feeling I hated, but I also hated the idea of lacking independence.

I didn't want to feel weak.

More importantly, I didn't want to be an open target.

I had hoped that when I went on tour with my mother, I would see the world in a different way, despite going only along the east coast. I hoped that it would give me the opportunity to force myself out of my shell, meet new people, see new things without a fear of doing it by myself.

I should feel terrified standing alone, outside of a bar in the middle of the night.

But I don't.

Because I know he's inside, on his way out.

The one person I wouldn't have expected to give me the most strength is the one who is the reason I'm standing on the sidewalk with a smile on my face, probably looking stupid to be so happy standing in a sea of strangers.

I glance back inside through a window, finding him leaning against the table, saying a few things to Nick before he disappears into a crowd.

I turn back around, trying to wipe the smile from my face as I hear the door open behind me, guessing and hoping that it's him.

I face the street again, watching the cars go by when two arms are wrapped around my shoulders from behind, squeezing lightly while his head falls into my shoulders.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come back," I lie as I purse my lips, trying to act unfazed as his breath hits my neck.

"You thought I'd leave you here? Come on now." His head raises, and his arms let go of me, relaxing at his sides before he leads me away from the line of people still entering the bar.

I follow him until he stops at the end of the sidewalk, glancing down the street to more cars driving by in the opposite direction.

Feeling brave, I kiss him again, gripping the sides of his shirt while I tilt my head to his height above me.