Exaltation

Chapter 10

"I think David is going to ask me to be official soon," Ellie says as we exit the main academic building. I raise my eyebrows at her and smile.

"Oh really?" I ask. She grins as she nods excitedly.

"I mean, a girl can only dream. But we've already been exclusive for, like, a month now. And we keep going on these amazing dates. Last night's dinner was literally perfect," she explains. I shift the positioning of my backpack on my shoulders.

"Hey, a month isn't that long," I refute. Ellie scoffs.

"Says the girl who's been 'talking' to Stef for, like, almost two months now. Why haven't you guys made that official yet?" She asks. I shrug.

"I'm just not ready for a relationship," I try. Ellie sighs.

"Well, you're not going to find anyone much better than Stef. The longer you wait, the more likely it is that he's going to.... You know, move on. To someone who is ready," she states. I glare at her.

"Thanks a lot, Ellie."

"I'm just being honest!" She exclaims. "Anyway, I'm going to go the library and catch up some work. I'll see you for dinner tonight?"

"Definitely. See you later," I reply, giving her a small wave before heading back to the dorm. All of a sudden, though, something in my stomach churns and it feels as if I've been hit in the head with a brick.

Before I know it, I'm running back to the dorm. As soon as I get into my room, I collapse onto my bed, pulling my knees up to my chin.

I know this feeling. I've felt this feeling before.

This is the return of my depression.

The thing is, my depression used to be constant. Every day felt like yet another task to have to complete, another burden to add to my already heavy shoulders. Most of the time it was so intense it felt like I couldn't breathe. It would sit in my lungs like stones, always weighing me down, distracting me from even the most basic of tasks. As I once wrote in a personal essay, there was no light. There was only darkness so deep it swallowed me whole.

By my senior year of high school, though, I'd learned to contain myself. I'd learned that while other students were able to flaunt their mental health struggles like medals they'd been awarded by the teachers themselves, I was not so lucky. I realized that if I just tried to keep it all inside, I could contain most of my emotions. If I could create a brick wall between myself and reality, my burdens could be a little lighter. The task lists a little shorter.

Of course, it didn't work all the time. Because I still had to do so much constant writing, it was hard to ever permanently distract myself from what I was feeling inside. Although the inevitable breakdowns that came with the destruction of my fake reality were difficult, I was always able to rebuild and start the process all over again.

My current charade— pretending to be completely and totally normal— is perhaps the longest I've ever gone without so much as even discussing the fact that I'm a bit sad. Clearly my brain can't handle the strain anymore right now. Because my whole body feels like it's shattering into a million pieces. In my own words written last year, my loneliness has made a permanent home inside of me. I am a cave. I know that in a heartbeat I would welcome in even a beast with open arms.

Just as I feel myself about to start crying, the door to the room swings open and Kris enters.

"Hey," she says cheerfully, hanging up her backpack and running a brush through her hair.

"Hey," I reply quietly. She turns around to look at me.

"Sophie, are you okay?" She asks. I bite my lip, pondering my answer. Should I be honest with her? I think to myself. As I study Kris' face, I realize again, just as I did the very first time I met her, how genuine she truly looks. And how pretty she is. My heart aches as it whispers trust her to me. But I won't listen to it. I can't listen to it.

"I'm fine. I just don't feel well. Thanks for checking in," I say.

"I just don't believe you," she replies, walking over to my desk and taking a seat in my chair. "Something's up."

I let out a small sigh and furrow my eyebrows together, trying to think up some reasonable excuse.

"I... I'm just feeling a bit sad."

There. My first slice of openness since arriving at Wilson.

"Did something happen?" She asks.

"No, no, nothing happened. Maybe I'm a little homesick. I don't know," I whisper. She gives me a concerned look.

"Do you want me to call Stef? Or Ellie? Or Margot? Or your mom—"

"Kris, I'm fine. I promise. I just need some time to sit and be sad. I'll feel better in no time," I assure her, but I haven't done a terribly good job convincing even myself. The pit in my stomach throbs.

"Well, I'm here. And I highly suggest talking to me. I've been told I'm a very effective pair of ears," she says, reaching out to touch my arm. As her cold skin makes contact with mine, I find that, if just for the moment, the tsunami that's engulfing me retreats. She lets her hand rest against my body for a few seconds before pulling away and returning to her bed.

I close my eyes. Again, I'm brought back to that same personal essay.

And through it all there is an unmovable peach-pit that sits hard as a rock in the bottom of my stomach. For some reason reminding me of my old poems, now still-life paintings, lying untouched in the back of my memory. Not quite forgotten but unable to be revived. Sort of like the darkness I know will forever be here, always waiting hand-in-hand with a quiet solitude I cannot even begin to fathom.

As I attempt to nap again, I move my hand to rest over my arm where Kris' had been just minutes ago. Let it sit there. Finally let sleep overtake me.

*

That night, Stef stops by.

"Hey, Soph, what's going on?" He asks, sliding off his backpack and taking a seat next to me on my bed. I sigh and let my head rest on his shoulder.

"Nothing. I was just... having a hard time earlier," I try. He sighs and pats my knee.

"You mentioned that. What happened?"

"Nothing happened, Stef."

"What do you mean, nothing happened?" He asks. He sounds genuinely curious. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I remove my head from his shoulder and instead rest in on the wall behind me.

"...Never mind. All that matters is that I'm feeling better now," I tell him, which isn't entirely a lie. When I woke up from my nap, I really did feel better, especially compared to the mood I'd been in when I'd fallen asleep.

"Whatever you say," he says. I smile at him and kiss his cheek.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Kris staring at us. When she looks at me, she raises her eyebrows before looking back down at the book she's reading.

I just need this day to over, I think to myself. Then I'll be okay. Then I'll be okay.