To the Beat of My Heart

Intervention

I'm leaning against a poplar, staring at a leaf twirling haphazardly in the canal as the wind picks up, a stabbing ache in my head, quickly descending into a rush of vertigo. I have to force myself to breathe. I'm like two minutes from the restaurant and I just realised how stupid it was to go this far. If those two aren't in the near vicinity, they've ditched us and Kai's smoke break was really a lame excuse to slip away with his boyfriend. I can forgive that. Maybe this is the night they finally fully commit.

It's not anxiety over losing them. I could have got lost in this alien place. I feel like a nine-year-old again, lost in the woods, screaming Clay's name, sick of our game of hide-and-seek. I begged for mum, dad, anyone, and I had a panic attack. Clay found me and hugged me until my world made sense again. I'm a fucking adult now. I can easily find my way back to the restaurant, could keep walking, taking any number of turns and just check my phone, hell, call Jaz and she'd find me easy enough.

So what is it?

I love Amsterdam. Love the opportunity to explore the world. But I don't belong here. I haven't earned this. I'm just here by virtue of finding a boyfriend successful enough to book a flight to anywhere in the world at any time, no need to check his bank account. It just so happened his day job would find him in Washington, Japan, Brazil... Amsterdam... anywhere his millions of adoring fans would congregate to celebrate the talents of one incredible man.

And I know all this. I know I have imposter syndrome, a sense of being somewhere I don't belong. But just five fucking minutes ago I was in the middle of a sea of cherry blossoms, my mind at ease, a night salvaged, made serene and whole. It comes at you, darkens your corners and festers so damn fast. I fucking hate this.

I hurry back, nails digging into my palms the whole way, letting the physical pain distract somewhat from the mental. A laughable effort. It's like a mosquito sitting on your knuckle. It's annoying but hardly the worst bloody thing when the rest of you just happens to be on fire.

Jaz stands when I reach our table and I hook Clay's arm around my neck, murmuring for him to do the same with his other arm. It takes a little coaxing, but he does. His legs are jelly when he stands but I keep him stable. I fish his phone and cigarettes from the table and slip them in my pocket while he drags me down with his weight. He presses his head into my cheek and walks with me. It's extremely cumbersome and he keeps tripping me with his feet. We get to the road and Jaz tells me to set him down while she orders a taxi. I join him on the concrete a moment later and we wait, Clay collapsed into my chest, eyes glossy, falling into fits of sleep.

Jaz helps me bundle Clay into the back of the car when a flash sounds behind us. My fight-or-flight response kicks in and I feel my gut plummet as I turn, sure it's Pascal. It's not, just some guy with his phone. Jaz eyes him and he calls out saying he's a big fan. I smile and whisper to Clay that a fan is here. Clay mumbles something but I don't catch it. I push him further in and he slurs the next words but I just make out a few.

"No Clay," I sigh. "No pic. You can barely stand let alone open your eyes. Let this one go."

I face the guy again, wondering if he was from the restaurant and was too shy to say anything back then.

"Big night," I tell him, climbing in after Clay.

I settle in against the window, Clay's head digging into my shoulder painfully, but I can't move him without him pressing into another part of me. I just learn to live with the discomfort. Like tonight. I went from a high to a very low low. I celebrated my boyfriend's birthday and made new ground with Jaz. And still, I second-guessed my life's purpose and had a mini-breakdown on the water's edge. I freaked and stood there while my demons burned and cut and suffocated me. God, I hope Ansel and Kai are having a better fucking night than me.