It’s the middle of the night. I let the clock reach 2am before I realize that it’s going to be one of those nights. Before I accept that it will be one of those nights.
I’m lying in bed and I try to fall asleep, I really do, but the dark chiseled face of insomnia reaches into my mind and takes the concept of sleep then chucks it out of my half opened window.
My window, the hot air blows in and hits my face, yet I shiver as if I was sat in the middle of an ice box. How is it possible that despite this happening almost every night, I am still scared… and I still can’t seem to control it.
The phone screen sitting a foot away from me begins to light up and it seems like forever before I can find the strength to reach over and unlock my phone. Just to unlock my phone, how mundane a task and still I cannot complete it.
I begin to feel worse, it’s become increasingly harder to breathe and again I begin to feel worse. Unable and useless but the feeling will fade just as the night before, and the night before that.
I hear these same thoughts running through my head and it sounds like hope but it is not hope. I know that I will be okay but not because I am okay. I will be okay because I know that she will arrive at any time.
I lay in bed and try to grow accustom to the fact that I am virtually underwater in my mind, but that never works. The tears continue to roll down my face and I’m curled into a ball when I hear the front door open and her tiny footsteps trying their hardest to be quiet.
This in its own feels like I am sitting in fresh air, but it’s not until she’s laid down next to me that I begin to feel the oxygen entering my lungs.
This night, just like many nights before, she wraps her arms around me and whispers words of comfort for me to hear. She holds my hand as if to stop it from shaking and she begins to count, makes me name things of my favorite color, and all of the other tips and tricks we learned in order to stabilize each other.
After whatever feels like a life time I am back on the ground and I can breathe. The shaking stops and I turn myself to face her while she fiddles with my hair. I find a bag of gummy fruit snacks, both of our favorites, and a gallon of orange juice next to our all-time favorite movie.
This girl knows exactly how to save me and that single thought is enough to keep me grounded for at least one more night. She is my best friend, the most honorary member of my family. To her my dad is dad and my mom is mom, my family claims her as theirs and no one else has ever stayed in my life this way unless obligated.
It’s as if the forces of the galaxy pulled us together because they knew we weren’t okay and in a way it was an act of balance. She’s kept me above water and I’ve kept her from floating aimlessly into space.
I am alive and it’s for her. This is a fact very well known to me. Known almost as much as the feeling of the warm air that hits my face in the middle of the night.