Jukai

Chapter 33 Healing Isn't Linear

Nicole hunter

days later

Let you come and go...Whatever state I'm in

Sitting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, I barely registered the warmth of the morning air pressing against my skin. It clung to me, thick and heavy, but it couldn't reach the cold buried deep in my bones.

The world was quiet. Too quiet. But my thoughts never were.

They twisted and tangled, looping back on themselves, dragging me under. Why did I come back? Why was I still here?

I shouldn't be.

The more I searched for a reason, the more I wanted to disappear. My mind whispered things I didn't want to hear, dark thoughts curling around me, pulling me into their depths. I told myself I wouldn't return to that place again, but it was always there, waiting. It never really left.

Days bled into each other—maybe weeks, maybe longer. Time had lost its meaning. It moved around me, indifferent, while I remained stuck. The guilt never left either. It sat in my chest like a stone, pressing down until every breath felt like a battle.

I had come back, but I didn't know why. What was I supposed to do now? Pretend I was okay? Pretend I wasn't still drowning?

And being pregnant didn't help at all. If anything, it made everything worse. My emotions felt like a landmine, ready to detonate at the slightest pressure. I was more fragile than I had ever been...

Every day was a war in my mind. A battle I was too tired to fight, but one I couldn't escape. The thoughts never stopped, the doubts, the fear, the overwhelming weight of everything pressing down on me. I wanted to believe I was strong enough to get through this, but I wasn't sure anymore.

I felt hollow, exhausted. My mind drifted, running on autopilot, detached from the world around me. And if these past months had taught me anything, it was that no matter how far I ran, my depression always found me.

And we don't have to fight...When it's not worth fighting for

Benjamin stepped outside, his footsteps slow, and measured, like he was afraid of startling me. He didn't speak right away. He stood there, watching like he was waiting to see if I would vanish into thin air.

I wish I could.

I wished that maybe, just maybe, I could close my eyes and not exist.

Benjamin's gaze drifted toward the trees, his expression unreadable. "Morning, Little," he said, his voice steady, carrying the warmth of something familiar.

He moved closer, settling into the rocking chair beside me. The chair creaked softly as he leaned back, exhaling like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn't in a hurry to fix me.

Just here. Just waiting.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. He didn't have to say anything. I knew he could see it—the exhaustion weighing me down, the quiet battle I was too tired to hide.

He nodded, offering me a calm smile, slow and easy like he was trying to remind me what warmth looked like.

"I know, Little," he said gently. "I know."

"The rocking chair creaked against the wooden porch planks, breaking the heavy silence like a whisper through the still air."

"I don't think I can do this," I whispered, the words scraping their way out, rough and aching. "It doesn't feel like it's meant for me. Like... I was never supposed to be here."