“Just breathe,” Sage repeats. “In and out. Slowly. You’re okay, Damon. Just breathe. Focus only on your breathing.”
I listen to her words. On the rhythm of my breaths. On my lungs. They work. They’re not broken. I’m not dead. I’m here. I’m okay. In and out. In and out. In and fucking out. Again and again and again.
Slowly, painfully, the panic begins to recede. But it hurts. It’s still so fucking painful.
“Good,” Sage says, her hand resting lightly on my chest. “Just like that. You’re doing great.”
I close my eyes, letting her voice wash over me. Soothe me. My hand finds Bones’s fur. He is real. This is real. I am real. With every breath, I float back down to reality, away from the evil thoughts that hold me hostage every day and every night.
After several minutes, I open my eyes, Bones’s wet snout forcing me cross-eyed.
“Well, I didn’t kill you with my words, but I gave you a panic attack, so that’s nice,” Sage chirps, kneeling beside me. “You feeling okay?”
I prop myself up on my elbows, a flush creeping up my neck, staining my cheeks a deep shade of red. A panic attack…?Thatwas a fucking panic attack?
Sage snorts at my reaction. “It’s fine,” she says, surprisingly gentle. “Nothing I’m not used to.”
I try to stand up, to brush off the embarrassmentand pretend like nothing happened, but Sage holds my shoulder down, her gaze stern.
“Give yourself a minute, big guy,” she says. “You don’t always need to run away.”
She strikes a nerve and anger bubbles up inside me, hot and fierce. How dare she presume to know what’s best for me? How dare she try to play therapist?
“You don’t know me,” I spit out. “Stop trying to act like you do.Youmay be all messed up, but I’m fine.”
Sage tilts her head. “Yeah, you look totally fine,” she says dryly, gesturing to the dirty carpet beneath me. “Lying on the floor in a hallway.”
The reality of what just happened hits me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I’m speechless. I hate it. I hate to admit it…but she’s right. Of course. I’m not fine. I wonder if I’veeverbeen fine.
“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Sage’s expression softens. “And that’s okay. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “I don’t want to be like this,” I admit in a shameful whisper. “I don’t want to feel like I’m falling apart.”
Sage reaches out, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “It’s okay to fall apart, Damon. But you need to put yourself together afterward.” She swallows, chewing on her bottom lip. “You said last week you have a support system? You should talk to them. Use them.”
Bones slides off my torso, and I bury my head into my hands. “I can’t. I can’t burden her anymore. She… She’s been through so much already. She’s also healing. I can’t—I can’t bring her down with me. I don’t know… I don’t know how to fix this. Fixme.”
“I get that. I used to avoid unloading on my partner ‘cause I was scared it would be too much for them. Like cancer and parents dying, and the trauma of it all isn’t really sexy, you know?”
Silent agreement settles between us as Sage rises to her feet, holding out her hand. "Maybe you just need a friend, Damon," she says, helping me rise from the grave I’ve fallen into. She glances at Bones. "Or a friend and a half."
It’s not hard for her to sense my skepticism, but Sage just rolls her eyes. A friend? I…I’m not sure I’ve ever really had a friend. Other than Quin, but that…he can’t help me with this. Neither of them can.
With a shrug, she adds, "We play fetch in Manning Park every day from 1 to 2 p.m. Join us whenever you want, okay?"
Her offer catches me off guard, but something about the sincerity in her voice makes me want to try.
And so I nod.
I fucking nod.
THE BOYFRIEND
EMERY
Quinand I stand outside my office building, a gust of wind whipping past us. Our lunch breaks have become stolen moments away from reality. But as he faces me, his expression turns solemn. Reality always catches up.
