Speak.

I.

Wednesday, march 28th, 2018.

"Here, take this", he said to me as he put the cup in my hands, "you'll feel better". Does it ever? I took a look at the dark and hot liquid, thinking, struggling with my mind. I swear this was the last place I would've gone to, but it was the only one I could force myself to go for the moment. One tear ran through my face and slipped in the beverage. Dammit. I couldn't allow myself to be weak right now. Not now. Please. I drowned a sob as soon as he sat next to me, staring, examining me. I sensed his weight over me. If only he would stop doing that. He knows me too well, but I didn't want to talk. There was so much..but still...I wanted to... i took a sip and shut my eyes closed, forgot to tell to add some sugar to it. Great.

"So, are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or do I have to wait for you to open up sometime?" he asked after a deaf silence.

"Please...", i said with a trembling voice, "I really want to enjoy this silence and the coffee. Don't want to talk right now".

"Mmhm", he murmured still staring at me, "When you knocked my door, I assumed that you'd talk about whatever is troubling you, but once again, I have to wait 'til a quarter of your walls falls down a bit".

Yes. Exactly. Like always, you read my mind and know how to proceed to that, I thought. I laughed sarcastically and kept drinking. Maybe the sour taste helps a bit after all. It became a habit after a while: whenever I felt trapped, I came here for some confort and to forget about all the things I didn't want to face yet. To me, he was the blanket I used to carry around when I was a kid, and some deep part of me tells me to let him go, but that seems so distant right now. Not yet. I can't let him go, even though he's not part of me. Yeah, a voice said, keep telling yourself that.

"Well, you can crash here for the night", he said standing up and heading to his room, "If you feel up to talk tomorrow, I'll be here". And with that, he closed the door and I was alone again.

Alone with my thoughts, mind, my struggles, my anxiety. Gosh, I feel so anxious, can't seem to calm myself down. Then, like a river, all my tears came out, my sobs along with them. It feels so good to cry alone, so good. No one was watching me, no one was telling to calm myself down, I could cry freely. My dad's words came rapidly to me, and with them, that triggered more sobs, more tears. Suddlenly, I stopped. I drank the last bit of the coffee, and laid down on the couch. "If you feel up to talk tomorrow, I'll be here", his voice was running around in my head with those words. Tomorrow, and here I was, praying tomorrow never comes.