How To Overcome Anxiety

Step 10. Try Again

It's art now, there's just lunch and english left to go.

At least I've made it through the day without embarrassing myself that much.

Art is definitely my favourite lesson, especially when I can paint whatever I want - which is what I'm doing, working to a brief is so constricting.

I dip my new, thin brush into blob of blue on my palette and watch as it trails down the page. Swilling the bristles in my water pot, I get a bright yellow now, doing the same.

I'm attempting to create a skyline - the one I get from my bedroom window to be precise. It's always so pretty when the sun sets - I know, my interests are so cliché. But it is.

"Paisley?..." I hear a cautious voice ask. It's Melanie's voice.
I turn to her, unexpected, she usually sits with Rachel and Morgan in this class. "Can I sit?"

I nod, "S-sure," Damn. Mouth, pronounce and don't stutter. She's smiling her usual smile, granted, she looks slightly uncomfortable but then so am I - uncomfortable is kind of a constant state for me though so I'm used to it.

I look across the room to see the perfect couple, Morgan and Rachel, looking over, wondering what Melanie is doing.

I want to scream at them, 'SHE WAS MY FRIEND BEFORE YOURS.' But I don't. Partly because I can't, partly because I'd look like a complete psycho.

"So..." I start, placing my brush on the palette. "Did you want to talk to me about anything in particular?" My words are too rushed still.

Slow down.

She shakes her head. "Not really, I just, erm, how've you been?"

"Okay," I say.

That's not really trying now is it Paisley. How is conversation supposed to continue from that?

I continue, "What about you?" We're sort of looking at eachother, although I struggle to keep eye contact.

Melanie produces a small smile, "I'm doing good. How's Lily? I haven't seen her since she was what? Two?"

"Y-yeah, she's fine, she's learning to ride a bike." I don't know why I said that, I can never think of things to say. I don't know what she wants to talk about. It's too awkward.

Her smile grows, "Ah, that's great, I remember this one time where I was learning to take the stabilizers off and I was doing soooo well," Melanie's bright eyes scrunch up, and she still talks with her hands. "And then I turned my head, saw my dad had let go off the back and panicked so much that I went headfirst into a pond." She moves her dainty hands as though the left was her head, and the right was the pond.

She sees my concerened expression, even though she's infront of me and I know she didn't die, and says, "Don't worry I was fine." Melanie laughs. I'm glad she talks so easily, I guess that's why we were friends before, because I can listen.

She looks down at my unfinished work, "What's it going to be?"

At first I don't realise what she's refering to, after a few puzzled moments I reply, "Oh, erm, just a sunset." I shrug.

"It's really good so far, like, it reminds me of that- oh what is it now? Starry night? By that Van dude?"

"Well, its nowhere near as good as his... but thanks," I smile, flattered at her comment. But still my hands are restless and wrap around eachother, taking my mind off this stressful situation.

Her eyes trail across the table and rest on the blue sketchbook to my left. "Is that yours?" Melanue asks, her perfect eyes gleaming.

I nod, "Can I see?"

I don't let anyone see my sketchbook, I mean, I did let her, before I went like this...

I don't want her to see. It holds too many of my thoughts and secrets. I'm not ready to share that with anyone. Not yet at least.

"I- ermm, is it okay if you don't? See, that is. It's kinda personal." I hope I haven't just ruined everything. My dark, drowned out eyes look away.

"That's fine," She states cheerfully. And when I look at her I see no disappointment or hatred, only understanding. She did know what happened though I guess...