A Loss For Words

Toothpaste

A year later, she's forgetting at least three words a day and there's a note in her phone that tells her where she keeps her everyday things in case she can't find them.

They'd gone on another tour even though he hadn't wanted to. He'd wanted to quit, he'd wanted to just stop trying to do what he'd worked for his entire life because of...everything, but there was no way she would ever allow him to do that.

So they had gone, and it had been okay. Olivia and Kyle came too, their best friends from high school, because that was the only way he agreed to go, and she was never left alone for longer than a few minutes at a time.

If he wasn't performing or rehearsing or interviewing, he was by her side. And when he couldn't be, Olivia and Kyle were. He never wanted her to be alone because a million wild scenarios ran through his brain every day, of her forgetting something that could mean the difference between her life and death. But he had forgotten to consider that she might actually want to be alone sometimes. That had started to wear on her halfway through the tour and she had exploded one day, out of nowhere.

"I can take care of myself!" she yells. "I don't need you guys to babysit me! So what if I forget a few words? I'm not an idiot!"

"Mia, calm down," Olivia says soothingly. "No one thinks you're an idiot."

She glares. "Then why did you guys follow me when I said I wanted to take a walk? I can't do anything without one of you breathing down my neck!"

"We're just looking out for you," Kyle tries. "I mean, what if you forget something really important and you—"

She throws her arms up exasperatedly and he cuts himself off. "Like what? Does it really matter if I forget the words toothpaste, or rug, or daisy, when I'm two blocks away from the fucking bus? Or if I forget where I put my makeup bag? I can't write without one of you asking me if I'm okay. I can't read without one of you asking if I'm okay. I can't breathe without one of you asking if I'm okay and I'm really fucking tired of it! I'm not a vegetable. I'm not disabled. I'm fully functional minus a few shitty words so leave me the hell alone!"

The outburst is so unlike her that she even looks surprised when she finishes speaking. But then she huffs in frustration before spinning around and leaving the bus.

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose for a second and then he runs after her. "James, are you sure that's a good—"

He ignores Olivia because the only thing on his mind is Mia and when he steps off the bus he sees that she hasn't gone far. She's not running, actually, but instead she's sitting on a curb less than a block away and he slows down as he approaches her.

She doesn't acknowledge him even as he joins her and they sit in silence for a while.

"Does the concept of space not mean anything to you?" she asks suddenly. "Like even right now, did it even cross your mind that I might want to be alone for a while?"

He doesn't say anything for a minute. Because she's right, he would have never thought of leaving her alone.

"But what if I don't want to be alone?" he asks softly.

He sees surprise flash across her face before irritation takes its place again. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

He swallows and his heart is in his throat and he can barely get the words out when he speaks. "Do what anymore?"

She stares at the ground. "Be here," she whispers. "I...I think I'm going to go home."

He panics. "Mia, please, don't—"

She looks up at him then and he falls silent. "I'm not breaking up with you. I just need a break. I love you, I will always love you, but I just need some time to be with myself before—" she cuts herself off and squeezes her eyes shut and he thinks that she's maybe trying not to cry. But her eyes are dry when she opens them. "—before I'm not myself anymore."

He closes his eyes. Because he understands, even though he doesn't want to understand.

"I know being with me is hard," she whispers. "And that it'll only get harder."

He stares at her.

"And I wouldn't...I wouldn't blame you if—" she cuts herself off, takes a deep breath. "—if you decide that it's too hard, James, because you're going to get hurt but I'm too selfish to break up with you myself and I—"

He cuts her off by pressing his lips to hers and she circles her arms around him almost instantaneously. He wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her onto his lap and he holds her so tightly he briefly wonders if she'll have trouble breathing but he can't let her go.

"Don't even think that ever again," he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. No matter what. And I'm sorry, Mia, I really am."

She finally lets herself cry then and he rubs her back gently, letting her let it out. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she hiccups out. "I don't even yell."

He laughs a little and he knows that for now, for now, they'll be okay. "I think maybe you do."