Prelude - Back Then...Mature

I'm weak. I don't know if I was always this way, or if they broke me down to this. I can't remember most of my life, but now - thanks to you- I can kind of stand on my own two feet. I'm getting better, slowly, but my emotional weakness is still here. That's one thing that hasn't gotten any better... However, I guess that's okay. It's okay because I have you. Because I can always count on you asking...
"What's wrong?"

He always keeps a careful watch on my emotions.  Always knows when I’m having a particularly good day, or when I’m feeling enough stress to think about relapsing and tearing myself open like before. It doesn’t bother me, though. Actually, quite the opposite. It makes me feel important knowing he does this for me. Makes me feel loved. It also keeps me from doing anything stupid, since he’d know the exact time, down to the millisecond, a blade makes contact with my skin.

In the beginning, he’d call or text all the time to make sure I was okay. I remember when he had to stay over for weeks at a time to help keep me clean, when he had to come running because he knew. He knew what I wouldn’t tell anyone and what it could lead to. Those were the hardest times. Then we both started getting better. Slowly, so slowly, like getting over a deadly disease. We helped each other, though. Helped each other get through the withdrawals. Through the cravings. Like a two person support group, we each helped the other quit our respective addictions. We playfully argue about this period from time to time. I don’t care what he says; he helped me way more than I could have possibly helped him.

Then he learned to shadow walk. To use that incredible buildup of energy and use it to transport himself. This was one of the funniest times. When he couldn’t control it completely. He would teleport to some of the strangest places, under my bed being one of them. Sometimes I’d get a little aggressive during a snogging session just to get him a little excited and have his ability accidentally teleport the two of us somewhere. Don’t tell him this, though. I mean, I had a good reason! He always got so flustered and that face is just so damn cute I can’t help wanting to see it more often. Those little trips are some of my happiest memories. The ones I turn to when those ugly flashbacks try to rear their awful heads. He’d use his shadow walking to visit me all the time, defeating the need for phones. He would, and to this day still does, use his shadow walking to surprise me when he knows I’m feeling down. Sometimes he’ll bring me a treat, like banana peppers, to cheer me up. And sometimes he’ll just cuddle with me till I feel better. Somehow he always knows just what I need to cheer me up. He’s so good at it that sometimes I wonder if he can actually read my mind instead of just know what I’m feeling.

He always keeps an eye on my emotions. Always makes it a point to visit when I’m feeling down. Which is why I’m not surprised when I see the shadows begin to move. When a dark figure makes its way over to me, till I can finally see his face and see him sit on the edge of bed I’m curled up in, his hand reaching out to rub my arm and play with my bangs (attempts to cheer me up) before he speaks.

“What’s wrong?”

The End

0 comments about this story Feed