Me Too

32

I roll onto my left side at morning break and I put my arm over Sofia's still stomach. I wouldn't dream of waking my beautiful girlfriend, but as soon as I stirred the bed, she began moaning. She was half awake already, and every second she got closer to opening her eyes. I was a catalyst. "Chloe?"

As I press a gentle kiss to her shoulder, I scoot closer to her. Our room doesn't move an inch as I settle my head on her collarbone. I tighten my grasp on her abdomen and line my body to hers. "Good morning."

She flicks her head, meeting our foreheads. "Morning."

I kiss her nose and she grimaced, shaking me away. Sometimes before the sun comes up, we talk; other times, I find the most awkward way to kiss her just to tick her off before her day begins. I kiss the bridge of her nose and then her forehead, placing mine back over the impression in her flawless skin. "How did you sleep?"

Today, we do both.

Sofia pulled away from me. She brought her arms over her head, pulling her leg towards her body- kneeing me- and she tensed her body while she stretched in the sheets, curling her fingers into fists. "Fine."

"Just fine? Just morning?" I kiss the corner of her eye, missing her temple when she twitched her sleepies away. I giggled patiently. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." She grabbed a fistfull of sheets and tugged them off her, throwing them on me. She sprung out of bed, tearing my hands from her body. It hurt to have to sit up. She plucked her phone off the nightstand, and started out of the bedroom with it glued to her face. I've never seen her so tense so early in the morning.

"Sofia?"

She grabbed the panel, stopping herself. She bowed her head as she pivoted. Her lips pursed slowly. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're alright?" I ask guilt-ridden.

She slid her phone along her thigh, nodding. I need to know why she is so gloomy this morning, so hurt and so distant. She stared blankly at the white carpet. "Are you?"

I begin untangling the sheets. "I think so."

"Oh," she smiled weakly, "Good." She spun on her toes and grabbed the handle of our door. In a second, she slipped through and shut it behind her. It couldn't have slammed any harder.

What is she doing? I flip on my back and reach behind my head and feel around my nightstand for my phone. I have two messages, one is from Cameron. He wants to know if Sofia and I are coming to his place this afternoon, or if I am coming at all. And he adds, "does she know yet?" with a wink, as if I wouldn't get the hint.

Yes. She does. And this is the beginning of the end, she's going to leave eventually, why would she stay? I saw the look in her eye.

I toss my phone away and lose it in the bedding as I get to my weak feet. I balance on the last of my good nights rest. I don't know how I am going to make it through today, I already want the day, the week, and the rest of my life to over with. I'm sick of this.

I don't know if I can go through telling Cameron, or his camera, what I told Sofia last night. It's not a fresh thought in my head, but thinking it and saying it are two things. I feel nauseous thinking about it, but I cry if I try to get words to come out of my mouth. How am I supposed to support people when I can't even support myself?

I am the biggest influence in my life, in my happiness, but I don't know how to be happy unless I am distracted from the flashbacks and memories. When I have to face it all, I get so feeble and sad and I feel like I'm alone again. If I said what I feel on camera, Cameron would never respect me again. If only people knew how pathetic I really am. I don't deserve any respect.