1 comment

Creative Nonfiction

“Be ready in 10” he said.

I liked him from the beginning.

He was a loudmouth. You always knew where he was because he was the loudest, sometimes the most obnoxious, one in the room.

He was also charming, in a weird, chaotic way but he was.

My quietness went well with his loudness, my jokes made his over the top ones even funnier and through differences, we found compatibility and eventually love.

It’s funny how a stranger becomes family. At this point, I know his scent just as well as I know my mothers.

It is great to love someone, but it is even better when you are loved back.

Now, six years in, I think I am still my best self around him. I have become kinder, not afraid to think for my own or to get mad when something is not right.

He always jokes about how “I bloomed” throughout these six years.

Because of all that love, I try to be my best self. But I never succeed. I get angry, I cry, I become annoyed far more often than I should and, most of all, I am selfish.

He’s seen it all and experienced it all with me. We’ve grown together.

You would think he knows it all at this point, right?

But no one ever knows it all. Because, underneath all the fights, the laughs, the tender moments and the not so well managed conversations, there is that small part that only I know.

That small part that grows the older I get.

He always asks what I think about when I stare out the window while he drives. When I get sucked into my thoughts and start making funny faces that reflect my inability to cope.  

“What are you thinking about?” he says, grabbing my chin playfully.

“Nothing” I smile

Nothing he needs to know. My secrets being kept inside of me.

I’ve managed myself well throughout the years. Pushing those feelings deeper and deeper…except for that one time.

The time I could not get out of bed. When I just laid there, staring at the wall for hours with not a single thought in my head.

That’s when I knew what it was. I was older by that time, so I understood it better.  

The darkness came out.

I failed multiple classes at school because I simply did not or could not care anymore. I stopped showing up to work for no real reason and talking to people…talking to people was the hardest part.

I told him it was just a phase, just stress. I was working like crazy and going to school full time during that period, so it made sense.

After some time, I managed to gather myself, piece by piece, until everything returned to normal.  

I smiled, carried out with my responsibilities and mocked his awful jokes. Things were alright.

But it's back.

Some days are fine, I just carry through the motions. Other days feel like I can’t breathe.

But the world doesn’t give you a break just because a little darkness sipped through your soul.

On the contrary, the days seem to go faster, harder, throwing you down, making sure you hit your face on the ground as you fall.

Not a graceful fall either but the type of fall that happens so fast, you can’t even put your hands out to lessen the impact.  

It’s ugly.

I quietly move through the days, but this time, I cannot just lay in bed. I have to work, I have to pay bills, attend to the needs of elderly parents, etc.

And so everything feels a little heavier and harder to keep inside.

Now a days, I say I am just annoyed. But how annoying can things really be?

“Five minutes left!!!” He yells from the kitchen.

He always gives me a count down before leaving, but I am always ready before him…he’s a pretty boy, he likes to take his time.

Life goes on like this.

He is the little bright light that keeps me from succumbing to it all.

I thought I was protecting him from stress, from disappointment and sadness. I thought I did it because I am strong and I can deal with it, have been for years now.

But I am older now.

The darkness is still there, even after all these years, creeping through every open crack. Making sure my breathing is a little harder and my body a bit heavier.

I am tired, I could use a little more sleep.

“Two minutes and we’re out” He yells again, I giggle.

I thought I was doing it for him. Wouldn’t it be ugly to taint his bright little world with a cloud full of rain?

It is a hard thing to deal with. A lot for a person, your person, to deal with.

To have to wake up with someone else’s darkness is the heaviest burden of them all. You can’t do anything but be there, I didn’t think that was fair to him.  

That’s frustrating.

How many times I wished there was a magical bandage to take care of it all.

But bandages don’t cure problems, it just prevents major ones from happening.  

You see, the bandage I chose to use throughout all these years had not been changed in a while.

The blood zipped through it, and instead of changing it for a new one, I just added more and more bandages, until the cut became infected.  

So now, sitting in darkness, with a rare glimpse of reality, I realize I love him too much to put him through that.

But I love myself even more.

To open myself up and utter those words, doesn’t mean he will have to be there for me. It means I have to admit and embrace my reality.

If I say it, then it is real.

“Ready!” He pops his head from behind the wall.

I smile. “Let’s go have dinner, I am starving” I say

Another day passes by…but I am still not ready.


February 12, 2020 02:51

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

1 comment

Kali Bennett
01:21 Feb 20, 2020

Such a great story! Love all the dialouge you add and the details are all really great!

Reply

Show 0 replies
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.