breathe
I don't know why I wrote this. Or something like this. I have weeks where I don't do very well. Where my anxiety gets really high and the most I can do is ride it out. This feels really stupid and embarrassing to write here, but there's a Mitski song, I Will, off Bury Me at Makeout Creek, and it sounds like a love song of sorts, but the song is actually directed at herself-- things she wished others would say to her.
Well, I tried it. I don't exactly feel better, but now I've written something, and I don't hate it. I'm sorry, I don't have a great place to put something like this that keeps it anonymous. I had written a previous draft that was more of a story and less just dialogue. I wanted to keep it intentionally... Unclear who the other person is. No pronouns or descriptions. Hence... Less of a story. Looking back at it, I can only think "It's evident that the person who wrote this was having a panic attack." But... Fuck. I'm going to try to sleep.
I'm sure this isn't good for my heart. I feel dazed and dizzy, adrenaline fading in and out of my bloodstream as if on an alternating current. I want to rip the goddamn outlet out the wall. A pat on my back jolts me back. I look to my right. "Wh...where to...?" I manage. "Up to you, kid." So gruff... Brusque. I can't help but feel as though I'm already doing this wrong. Out of my depth. That's... That's bad, right? I... I don't know if I can do this. Wait, fuck, I haven't answered. "Right... Uh... I'm at a hotel, across... I mean, sorry, wait! You're serious?"
I realize in that moment how I appear. Never hated myself or my age so much. Fuck, I don't know if I can make it through tonight. "Sorry."
"Hey."
"...Yeah?"
"New to this?"
Am I being pitied?
"Maybe." Smooth. "...Yes. I am, uh... Yes."
"Something I can do to make it easier ?"
"If you had a Xanax, maybe." Maybe that'd be funny if I didn't stammer.
"Cute. You're alright, okay?"
"I... Thank you. That-- cute...?"
So easy. So goddamn easy.
"Wanna hear it again?"
Fuck, maybe...? Is that pathetic?
"Hah, I... Didn't expect... Thank you. You... You really think so?"
"You don't seem to believe me." Nearly a growl. Even when it's mock-threatening I still shiver.
"I... I do, I... Haven't... I haven't heard it... Uh, sorry. I haven't heard it before. I don't think."
Are you out of breath?
"Yeah? Well you should hear it more. It's true."
Fucking saccharine. I hate how much I like that.
"Are you-- h-hah, I... Th...thank you. God..." What do I do with my hands? Can I go to the bathroom? Oh fuck.
Deep breath. "Are you waiting on me?"
"I wasn't. You're eager, I take it?"
N...no. A little. No. Yes. No. Not really. Am I? Am I supposed to be?
"I don't know..."
"You don't know?"
Fuck. "Y...yes. I don't..." Way-too-large sip of water. "I don't know how to do this..."
"Hm, what a way to ask for it... I can be a good teacher, you know."
I blink. In an instant, the room is far too hot for my sweater. I manage to stifle a noise at that. Whatever it would've been, it wouldn't have looked good. It doesn't matter, my blush is probably doing that work anyway. Inhale, exhale. "No, but, actually..."
"I know. I'm teasing."
"I know."
"I'll pay your tab."
"Ah! Please don't, I wouldn't want to make you spend money on me--"
"You're not gonna make me do anything tonight, kid. I'm paying."
"O...okay."
I can't decide how that makes me feel. I feel cared for, I feel like I'm a burden. I feel like I have a fever. I'm shivering now. I look sick. Do I look sick? I feel sick. I feel sick...
I look straight down. The most natural direction for anyone to look during an interaction.
"...How much was it, at least? I..."
"You're gonna argue with me?" Don't growl at me like that... I feel like a kid.
"...No."
"Good."
"Sorry..."
"Don't apologize. I'm paying for your shit. You have nothing to apologize for."
"...I s... I say it more when I'm nervous."
"And how often is that?"
"...how often is too often?"
"That's my answer."
I fold my arms on the bar and put my head down. I haven't been very fun to talk to, have I...
"I'm sorry. Bear with me... I want to do... I want a retry."
"A retry?"
"Can I have 10 minutes?"
"...look at me."
I can't. I manage... "Yes?"
"Take all the time you need."