I have never, ever, been happier

Its half past midnight, and I sit at the living room table, drawing measured breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

I keep myself in this mindless cycle, because if I don’t, I will implode.

The most horrible thing? I’m alone.

So, my implosion would go unnoticed.

I’d self-combust and no one would be here to put me back together.

I’m not supposed to be alone. I have a lover.

At least, that is what I like to say. My lover.

It felt good to claim someone as mine, to look at this person and feel a rightful possessiveness.

My lover.

But lately, I’m not so sure.

My lover is home later and later every night, and in the hopeless, doomed way parallel lines are impossibly close, yet still never touch, the later my love stays out, the deeper into the night I stay up.

Drinking green tea on the better nights. And on nights like this, just breathing.

Scrambling frantically to grasp the tether that binds us, but my hands are slick with the oily slipperiness that is doubt.

I stop breathing because I know if I take another breath my despair will cascade down my cheeks, bellying my resolve.

And though the night is upon me and the silence is like a cool glove around my head, my mind refuses to rest. Choosing instead to worsen my turmoil.

At a point its impossible to ignore the thoughts fighting to surface.

I let them in for only a minute, not enough time to cause any real damage.

They bring with them the now prevalent feeling of helplessness that I feel even when my lover is around me now. Like he could vanish at any moment and I’d be left standing, dumbfounded and alone.

Pulled out of a dream and discarded.

Forgotten.

Then deeper still, the blinding anger that someone I love could make me feel this…replaceable, this common.

Underneath that, the ugly, weak part of me that wants to just give up.

I refuse to even contemplate that. I need him like I need air to breathe.

No.

I’m not even aware I’m shaking my head, trying to dispel the insistent thoughts.

Oh, God, was I wrong; one minute was more than enough to break me.

Now I’m crying tears of frustration, hot, hard tears that scald my cheeks and make me even more angry.

I’m trembling with rage.

Rage that something so beautiful, so perfect could also be so bitter, so acrid.

My love, oh, my love, come back to me, and we will continue as it was.

Despair and sadness have washed away my anger, leaving an empty ache and more tears.

The sound of a doorknob twisting snaps me back into the present and for a moment all is still in my head.

I freeze in place.

Then relief floods me so violently my legs shake too hard for me push myself off the chair.

I can only stare as the door opens and my love is there, smiling at me, in that gorgeous way that lights up my spirit from the inside.

I take in a deep breath, and it feels like I haven’t taken a single breath my whole life, I feel the fractures in my heart healing, mending as I wrap my arms around the center of my world.

All is right, all is forgiven.

What use is reflecting on past emotions and silly sentiments when the owner of my heart is here, alive and warm in my arms?

When we kiss, I push all those ugly thoughts to the back of my head, clinging desperately to the mindless bliss I never knew I’d been seeking.

Mini authors note;

I can’t even remember exactly when I wrote this piece, but I know it’s been on my laptop for a while.

I also wanted to make clear that I am not romanticizing or enabling this kind of toxicity in relationships, one person should not have this much power over you, no matter how much you love them. It is unhealthy. It just felt good at that moment to write about a problematic and toxic relationship.

It also reminds me of Nate and Cassie’s “Relationship” in euphoria (as you can tell by the title)