Jay will be home soon, I remind myself. I have to get back tonormal for him.
I drop the letter Damon handed me on the floor.
I see who it’s from: Melanie Carmichael.
Oh, Melanie. She hurt me so much, but I hurt her more. Everynight I wasn’t there for her. Every night I recoiled from her touch. Everynight she tried to get me to go out or to pull me from the grip of my despaironly to be met with the cold shell of a person that I’d become after I cameback home.
The combination of Damon freaking me out and Melanie’s lettercollide, generating the perfect panic attack.
I lie on my stomach, resting my hands beside me.
It’s pointless to fight. I have to go with it like Laura says,but I don’t want Jay to come home and see me like this. I don’t want himfeeling like every time I fall, he has to catch me. But my awareness of howthis will affect Jay only makes it hurt even more.
I beg my body to help me.
He was so excited when he saw the tickets, and I’ve been soeager to spend tonight with him. However, this episode reminds me of how longthings like this can stretch out…and how they can interfere with my life.Reminds me of a time when I could hardly function because they were so intense.Of the stretches that still occur…that leave me walking through life like somesort of zombie.
I knew the relief I was experiencing with Jay wouldn’t last.That one day I would have to confront this dark part of me again.
You can do this.
But I know willpower only works against me. I always use it as atool to beat up on myself.
Relax. Relax.
But I can’t.
Jay can’t come home and find me in this state.
I need to at least make it to the couch so I can look like I’mtired or taking a nap. That’ll give me time to recover. We have at least twohours before we have to leave here anyway.
Come on.
I need to be strong long enough to get there.
I hear the familiar sound of Jay’s car engine outside.
The couch feels so fucking far away, even though it’s just a fewfeet.
Mental flashes of the urgency of war return to me. It’s like I’mracing through streets, on high alert, knowing there could be a sniper aimingfor me. That I or any one of my friends could be shot dead in a moment.
I push to my knees. It feels like I’m struggling against athree-hundred-pound weight. I crawl across the floor.
The sound of the car door opening and closing.
I don’t have much time.
He’s not going to find me like this. I’m not fucking this up.
I press my hand against the back of the couch as I start risingto my feet.
I hear the rattling of the lock on the door. Jay must have justput his key in.
The pain in my chest is like someone’s sticking a knife in it.
Do it, I command myself before getting up and throwing myself overthe couch.
As the door opens, I settle on my back, closing my eyes andhoping to God I look like I’m taking a nap. That I haven’t been caught. I doubtI’m giving a good performance of appearing comfortable because I can feel thatevery muscle in my body is flexed.
