you complete me(ss) l.h

•three•

Haley

     4 AM.

     He's probably sleeping. I'm crying.

     It's happening again. I can't control it. My heart won't stop racing, racing like a car. My lungs are struggling for air, as if it was strangling itself. The world is spinning, and my shaking body is laying on my bed.

     I pray for it to stop, because if there's one thing I know, is that cars that go to fast crash...and I'm begging my race car of a heart to slow down so as not to destroy itself.

     Breathe in. One, two, three, four. My eyes squeeze shut to keep the tears from flowing.

Hold. One, two, three, four, five...

My mind's eye sees him.

Six, seven.

Exhale. One, two...

I can't count anymore, not with the distraction of his face in my head. Then again, maybe with him in my thoughts, I won't have to count. I exhale the rest of the air I had stored and try to concentrate.

     He has eyes that are pools of blue, tempting and inviting to swim in.  His smile shone like a drop of sunshine of a cloudy day. He seems bold as brass, and acted to be a live wire. I felt kindness exuding from him. He's just one of those people you like from the moment you meet them. Something about him is just so charming and comforting.

My eyes open, and I stare at the ceiling, assessing my current state. An almost normal beating of my heart has returned, and the elephant that seemed to be sitting on my chest has left. My body is still.

I release a heavy sigh. Anxiety sucks. It sucked in 3rd grade, and it still sucks 10 years later.

This attack was different though. I was able to stop it. Well, he was able to stop it. How does that work? Nothing can ever pull me out of anxiety attacks... But there's something about him.

I tell myself not to think about him. I need to be able to calm myself down from the attacks without thinking about him. I'm sure he's probably already forgotten about me, and the chances of me seeing him are slim.

Just forget, I tell myself. Go to sleep now.

My eyes close, and I pull the bed sheet over my shoulders.

A ping of anxiety appears. I see him again. Despite what I'd told myself, maybe I don't have to forget tonight... just so that I can keep the anxiety away. I'll forget Luke tomorrow. I mean... If I remember to forget, that is.

///

Next Morning Update: I guess I didn't remember to forget.

I'm back on the hill. 7:30 in the morning, and with less than 2 hours of sleep. Despite how exhausted I am, I'll never miss this time. It's the only way I can start my day without worrying about everything that could go wrong.

My pencil presses back down on the page of my journal.

Athazagoraphobia(uh-THAZZ-uh-gore-uh-foe-bee-uh): fear of being forgotten, ignored, or forgetting.