attack, I don’t know where this is coming from, and that
panics me even more. When the doors open, I take off running, and don’t stop
until I reach the parking lot. I sit in my driver’s seat and sob.
What
in the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I losing my shit? Cash didn’t do anything
to me that I didn’t ask him to do. I don’t feel any differently about him. I
shouldn’t be this out of sorts. It was like my mind was trying to sabotage me,
some kind of involuntary self-slut shaming. It goes against my entire moral
code to enjoy being treated that way by a man. The internal conflict was
breaking me down. I need to get it together. I turned the engine over and
pulled out of the parking lot.
I
returned from the store with an armful of bags, and lingered in the lobby of
the building. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get back up to my apartment. I sat
down on the bench near the office and pulled out my phone. I had two missed
calls from Cash. I texted him.
Hey. Did you leave for work already?
I tried to take deep breaths, but they
kept catching in the back of my throat.
No, I called off. I was worried about
you. Where are you?
I instantly feel bad that I didn’t
leave him a note or something. I didn’t mean to make him miss a day of work.
But I guess it would have kind of made him an asshole if he shrugged off my
disappearance and went about his day.
Can you come down and meet me in the
lobby?
I hung my head in my hands and tried to
collect myself. This was easier said than done. I’m a damn mess. Cash snuck up
on me.
“Are
those my pajama’s?” he asked with a chuckle. I looked up. His smile turned into
concern.
“Maybe,”
I replied, “sorry.”
“No,
no, it’s ok. Have you been crying?” he asked.
“A
little. I had to grab some things from the store, and I kind of lost my shit on
the elevator on the way down. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I admitted.
Cash dropped to his knees in front of me and took my hands in his.
“Jeez,
babe. I’m so sorry. You should have just let me go to the store for you. There’s
nothing wrong with you. You’re just… you’re… I don’t know. You are kind of
vulnerable right now. I should have discussed what it might be like after. I
didn’t know how you’d come off it; I figured we could play it by ear. We don’t
have to do this ever again,” he assured me. It was unexpected, but welcome to
hear him call me babe. It made me smile and chipped a crack in my numbness.
“So
it would be like this every time? It wasn’t like this the first time,” I said,
blankly.
“I
don’t know. I don’t know how it will be until it happens. It might get better
over time, but if you don’t want to find out, we don’t have to. It wasn’t like
this the first time because you still had autonomy,
last night I took you over and didn’t give the reigns back until I was
finished. It’s different,” he explained. This lit a tiny spark inside of me,
melting away a little more of my numb, clearing a little of the fog out of my
brain. I feel ridiculous and pathetic. I’m not some damsel in distress, needing
to be saved. Yet here I sit, helpless and drowning in anxiety, desperate for
his help; his help to get back to my apartment, his help to get back to myself.
I really, really need to get my shit together.
“This is normal though? I’m not having
some kind of psychological break?” I asked. I felt like I was having a
breakdown. Some kind of dissociative something; It had been a long time since
my college Psych courses.
“I think you’re gonna be ok. It’s
fairly normal, I think. We just need to figure out what kind of after-care you
need. But we can talk about that later. Let’s get upstairs,” Cash said,
gathering my grocery bags. He sat them on the floor of the elevator on the ride
up to free his arms to wrap around me, while whispering that everything was
okay. I’m a fucking train wreck.
He carried the bags into my apartment
and started
panics me even more. When the doors open, I take off running, and don’t stop
until I reach the parking lot. I sit in my driver’s seat and sob.
What
in the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I losing my shit? Cash didn’t do anything
to me that I didn’t ask him to do. I don’t feel any differently about him. I
shouldn’t be this out of sorts. It was like my mind was trying to sabotage me,
some kind of involuntary self-slut shaming. It goes against my entire moral
code to enjoy being treated that way by a man. The internal conflict was
breaking me down. I need to get it together. I turned the engine over and
pulled out of the parking lot.
I
returned from the store with an armful of bags, and lingered in the lobby of
the building. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get back up to my apartment. I sat
down on the bench near the office and pulled out my phone. I had two missed
calls from Cash. I texted him.
Hey. Did you leave for work already?
I tried to take deep breaths, but they
kept catching in the back of my throat.
No, I called off. I was worried about
you. Where are you?
I instantly feel bad that I didn’t
leave him a note or something. I didn’t mean to make him miss a day of work.
But I guess it would have kind of made him an asshole if he shrugged off my
disappearance and went about his day.
Can you come down and meet me in the
lobby?
I hung my head in my hands and tried to
collect myself. This was easier said than done. I’m a damn mess. Cash snuck up
on me.
“Are
those my pajama’s?” he asked with a chuckle. I looked up. His smile turned into
concern.
“Maybe,”
I replied, “sorry.”
“No,
no, it’s ok. Have you been crying?” he asked.
“A
little. I had to grab some things from the store, and I kind of lost my shit on
the elevator on the way down. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I admitted.
Cash dropped to his knees in front of me and took my hands in his.
“Jeez,
babe. I’m so sorry. You should have just let me go to the store for you. There’s
nothing wrong with you. You’re just… you’re… I don’t know. You are kind of
vulnerable right now. I should have discussed what it might be like after. I
didn’t know how you’d come off it; I figured we could play it by ear. We don’t
have to do this ever again,” he assured me. It was unexpected, but welcome to
hear him call me babe. It made me smile and chipped a crack in my numbness.
“So
it would be like this every time? It wasn’t like this the first time,” I said,
blankly.
“I
don’t know. I don’t know how it will be until it happens. It might get better
over time, but if you don’t want to find out, we don’t have to. It wasn’t like
this the first time because you still had autonomy,
last night I took you over and didn’t give the reigns back until I was
finished. It’s different,” he explained. This lit a tiny spark inside of me,
melting away a little more of my numb, clearing a little of the fog out of my
brain. I feel ridiculous and pathetic. I’m not some damsel in distress, needing
to be saved. Yet here I sit, helpless and drowning in anxiety, desperate for
his help; his help to get back to my apartment, his help to get back to myself.
I really, really need to get my shit together.
“This is normal though? I’m not having
some kind of psychological break?” I asked. I felt like I was having a
breakdown. Some kind of dissociative something; It had been a long time since
my college Psych courses.
“I think you’re gonna be ok. It’s
fairly normal, I think. We just need to figure out what kind of after-care you
need. But we can talk about that later. Let’s get upstairs,” Cash said,
gathering my grocery bags. He sat them on the floor of the elevator on the ride
up to free his arms to wrap around me, while whispering that everything was
okay. I’m a fucking train wreck.
He carried the bags into my apartment
and started
Similar Books
