Stories of Love

Stressed Out

Not, by any means, a reference to a certain twenty one pilots song though. ;)

It's been eight days.

Eight. Frickin' long, days.

And here she was hunched down the toilet, looking at nothing. Her mind silently hoping she was seeing at least just a tiny bit red in that white fabric. Or brown. Or anything, really. But she guessed it'd never come. Not now or the next few hours at least.

Or not.

She didn't know herself anymore.

She straightened up and went to splash some water to her face. At least the water felt nice. And she'd certainly needed a little niceness recently.

Her crankiness was almost making the whole house wary around her, and that in itself sucked. Because she didn't mean any of that, sometimes she couldn't help it that everything anyone ever did irritated her beyond belief. And with it still not coming, she didn't know what to do.

Especially when she was expected to accompany Andrew on his (kinda?) double date with a sweet southern girl he met at work who apparently had an overprotective older brother who thought their first date should be chaperoned by other parties. She supposed she was his chaperon. She just couldn't trust herself to behave as the role she was expected to be. But since she actually is the older sister, she guessed she didn't have a choice. Andrew is her younger twin by three months--yeah, her and her brother's birth was like miracle of the century and it was all over the news for some time, two decades ago.

She, having too eager to meet the world way earlier than supposed to, was birthed as a scrawny little foetus three months early and found settlement in the hospital's incubator for the next couple of months to stay alive while her brother stayed inside their momma's tummy until he was actually ready to be born.

Yeah, so she was the weak twin. But what does it matter?

But apparently, maybe it did matter now.

She sighed as she was once again reminded of her predicament. She shook her head and walked out of the bathroom, leaving her pads sadly untouched inside the second drawer of the bathroom's cabinet.

She was never irregular, never. She even used to start at the same damn date every single month of the last five years of her life. So why does it have to start now? What did she even do actually to have it end up like this? She didn't even know her body was that stressed.

And now, she realized, her stressing over its lack of evidence of coming was just going to make her stressed out even more. Which is no good.

"Exactly, you shouldn't overthink it, Jayce," her best friend of eight years, Delilah, had said later that night, reassuring her that being late was not something that alarming. "I've had it couple of times. Sometimes it came later than supposed to, sometimes it just skipped and never came at all until the next cycle come."

She nodded, agreeing to her best friend's reassuring words, realizing it actually made sense that sometimes things just happen out of the ordinary. And she nodded again in affirmative as Delilah suggested that she always bring along a pad or two just in case.

Though, she still couldn't help sighing again, "I know, I'm probably just worrying too much."

Delilah just snorted at that. "Like there's anything else to be worried about."

She just shrugged.

Not that she was worried about the other one possibility that could explain her obvious lateness of monthly guest. She knew better than letting her mind wander there, since she never had any exchange with opposite gender that could lead to that certain condition.