𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞

1-25

EVA

April 22, 2020

The honeymoon stage.

As a child, I could never understand why such a thing existed. The way I saw it, the whole relationship should be a honeymoon. Why would people fall in love just to experience short-term bliss? Unfortunately for me, my confusion did not clear up over the years. Maybe if it had, I would've been prepared when my own honeymoon stage ended.

Jazmin had not stirred. Not even an inch.

August was losing his mind, but he somehow managed to anchor everyone around him. I felt awful because try as I might, I could not find a way to help him. How can I help lift another person when I myself was drowning? So, for the first time in years, I found myself on my knees.

It had been a long while since I prayed. A part of me felt guilty because I was only coming to God when I needed something, but I pushed that shame away. This wasn't for me. My prayers were for my lover, my friend, and the people that loved them.

The parallels of my current predicament and my childhood trauma were not lost on me. In fact, I was so aware of them that I was nearly manic. My friends had no idea what was going on with me, and I found myself unable to explain. My voice was lost in a sea of pain. I had no comforting words for them, no healing touches to offer. Instead, I prayed.

I didn't need to speak for God to understand. He was the easiest person to communicate with. In the middle of the night, my knees were sore from the cold floor but still, I prayed. I asked that God bring Bashar home safely, that he lent August strength, and that he helped Jazmin recover.

To my surprise, Areum was the one who interrupted my prayers.

"What are you doing up?" I whispered. She glanced at my kneeling form and took a seat next to me. Together, we sat in Bashar's cold living room.

Areum spoke after a while, "Do you think he hears you?"

I bit my bottom lip before answering, "I haven't prayed in the longest, Areum. Yet, I always find myself in this position whenever I need guidance. He is like that best friend I don't have to talk to every day. We always find our way back to each other. So yes, I think he hears, and better yet, he listens."

She nodded. Areum was not a religious woman. She believed in the things she could see – the things she could prove. Blind faith was not something she indulged in. Still, she sat with me and held my hand as I prayed. I doubt she sent her own prayers, but Areum hoped that if my God truly existed, he would feel her desperation.

When the front door opened, she mutely stood. She stared at me as tension rose, silently wondering if she should leave. I nodded, shooing her off. I would be fine.

I leaned against the wall, running a hand over my growing curls. Bashar flinched when he saw me, his low lids widening slightly. We stared at each other, a strange apprehension surrounding us. This awkwardness was new. I no longer knew how to communicate with the man I loved.

I learned years ago that sorrow can alter the strongest of bonds, but it still hurt to see us like this. For a moment, I allowed myself to become a bug on the wall. I watched two lovers maintain painful eye contact, watched as the woman's eyes burned and the man's fists clenched. They looked as though it hurt to be in the same room as each other. Closing my eyes, I centered myself. It was my eyes that burned and my lover's firsts that clenched.

Just a few days ago, we were at the best point of our relationship. He was mine and I was his. Now, I belonged to the demons of my past and he to his poignant resentment.

How quickly things change.

My eyes snapped open when I heard retreating footsteps. "Wait," I whispered. Bashar turned towards me, his head bent. "What? Now you can talk?"