Breathe For Me (BoyxBoy)

One

The end of my worries
When will I stop fearing?
While death may be far
It is forever nearing

Where is he?
The one to hold my hand
Through my nightmares
Would he understand?

He will arrive
He will come to my door
And my worries and fears
Will plague me no more

I read over my poem, smiling at the last line. This is one of my best poems yet; it describes my hopes and wishes so perfectly. A life with somebody who understands my anxiety? Or better yet, a life without anxiety?

Reaching for my sketchbook, I imagine the dream boy from the poem, shading him in so that he seems to glow, and I feel like he is beckoning me, even from the page. He is telling me to go out into the world, and to conquer my fears.

Grabbing my green and blue swim trunks from my dresser drawer, I make my way to the bathroom. After changing, I coat myself with sunscreen and I comb my dark hair, scowling at the way my curls fall into my eyes. Adding gel won't do any good; the lake water will just wash it away.

I enter the kitchen and grab an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. "Hey Mom." I smile and take a bite. "How was your night?"

She smiles, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven. I look forward to devouring them later. "It was alright. The bar was really busy so your Dad and I decided to come home earlier. We didn't wake you up?"

"Nope." I finish my apple and throw the core in the compost. I'm about to leave when Mom calls out.

"Ethan! Don't forget to take your meds, sweetheart."

"Right!" I curse myself for forgetting to take my anxiety medication. Jogging back to my room, I dry-swallow the pill and grab my bag and a towel while I'm at it. "Thanks, Mom." And then I'm out the door.

Strolling down the quiet, tree-lined street, I yawn. Despite falling back to sleep quickly last night, I'm tired as hell. I remember the nightmare and grimace at the memory; no breath, no life, no hope.....

It's time for me to face my fear of natural water. I've only swam in swimming pools; I've never experienced lakes or rivers or seas. My parents told me that my fears are what are causing all of my nightmares, and that the sooner I realize that I won't automatically drown in the outdoors, the better.

As I approach the beach, I begin to sweat. The sun beats down on me, relentless. My breathing quickens and I feel a full-on panic attack starting up.

Breathe. Its ok, Ethan. Remember, the anxiety doesn't control you. You control the anxiety.

Reciting those words over and over again in my mind, I continue forward, my flips flops coated with sand, and my heart rate speeding up. I find a nice, shady place to lay my towel and bag; the beach only contains a handful of sunbathers and a few swimmers, along with a lifeguard.

There, Ethan. If you get in trouble, the lifeguard will save you

Not allowing myself to dwell on anything, I make my way to the water, flinching at the cold of the waves. I wade in to my knees and close my eyes, the water gently lapping up to my thighs, and then down below my kneecap, over and over and over again.

Gentle waves. I tell myself. A warm summer day, a cool, refreshing dip, and a lifeguard on top of that. You're fine, Ethan

I force myself forward, moving into water up to my belly button. I am determined to face my fear. I must face my fear. It's irrational, and it's a borderline phobia that I have to control. So far, no fish or other sea creature has attacked me, so I don't have to worry about that. I'm not dead or out of breath. I feel that I can do this. I just need to keep moving forward.