Learning How to Bend

NaNo Day 12 - Cold weather is perfect for writing!

I slept peacefully until another nightmare wreaked havoc on my dreams. I hated the nightmares. I hated how frequently they came, and I hated that now it seemed like I could sometimes anticipate them. This time was no different. I worried it would happen, a nightmare had struck the night before, but I prayed it would not. I was so relaxed with Thaddeus—which truly shocked me—that I thought maybe his presence would keep them at bay. It worked for a little while, as evidenced by the fact I fell asleep on the couch with him, not once but twice. But it failed to work for forever. I wished the nightmares would go away, but unfortunately, life does not work that way.

My heart raced.

My lungs burned.

The last relationship in which I was seriously invested—the last relationship I thought might last for eternity—shattered just as dramatically as it began. I was vulnerable with him. I was honest. I was true. I supported him, and I was myself with him. He was a close friend of Joe's. I thought if Joe trusted him, I could trust him, too. I thought he would be kind. I thought he would be understanding. I thought he would be loyal. I thought we would make memories. I thought we would laugh, cry, and go through life together one step at a time.

I was wrong.

The last time I was held by a man, I got hurt.

The last time I was held by a man, he would not let go.

The last time I was held by a man, I feared my life would never be the same.

I was right.

An almost electric shock in my shoulder jolted me awake, my chest rapidly rising and falling as I tried to calm my racing heartrate. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to do something—say something—but I was paralyzed with the exception of my breathing. I tried to take a slow deep breath in, held it for three seconds, and released it for five. I repeated this process ten times until I felt almost normal. I still felt on edge. Like if something were to touch me, I would jump five feet off the sofa in any direction.

I did not move, though, outside of breathing, for arms were snugly wrapped around me, one near the top of my back and the other at my waist. In my after-nightmare state, I immediately suspected it was Marcus, but I told myself to stop. To wait. To think.

Marcus could not hurt me anymore.

Marcus was gone.

I took in my surroundings. The cool temperature of the room thanks to the air conditioning. How my legs were tucked against me, almost to my chest. The soft fabric which wrinkled when I shifted it between my fingers. The silence, the only noises reaching my ears being my own breathing and the man who held me to his side. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed in sleep. I lifted my head off his shoulder for a moment before I put it back down.

I was safe here.

I had no idea what time it was, and I did not want to risk tapping the button on my watch for fear of waking Thaddeus. How long had we been here? This was one of those times when I felt the hindrances of my blindness. I could not tell whether the sky was beginning to lighten outside. Whether the sun was already up. Whether the room was dark. I could not decipher anything at all.

For the briefest of moments, my heart lurched due to my lack of knowledge. For the briefest of moments, I was extremely uneasy as I tried to figure out based off my grogginess how long I had been asleep. For the briefest of moments, my disorientation caused my thoughts to stall and my adrenaline levels to jump.

When Thaddeus shifted beneath me—whether to find a more comfortable position or to wake himself up—all of the feelings of insecurity, of doubt, of fear disintegrated. I was fine. I was unafraid. I was safe. As his breathing pattern changed from slow and deep to a little faster, I knew he was awake.