Page 18 of Frozen Flames

For the rest of the night, a faint smile appears etched on her face. I wonder if all it takes for her to be this happy is to be asked about her day and her worries.

The possibility makes me feel like shit.

She deserves someone who will ask all the questions, without exceptions for their moods.

The dark cloud over my head is back. This god-awful feeling deep within.

I feel sad. I feel numb.

I feel as if nothing will ever be joyful again.

And this darkness inside my chest retreats and grows, over and over.

When she makes us popcorn midway through the movie, I catch a whiff of her hair as she hands me my own bowl.

She smells good.

I have this irrational need, desire, whatever to just lay on top of her lap and have her play with my hair.

No fucking idea why.

I’mthatlonely.

As if I have no one and everyone all at the same time.

The old me would die to reconnect with her again, but the new me is stuck with nothing but anger as my anchor, drenched in fears and insecurities.

Then I strike and lash out. And I hurt the people I love.

And I don’t even know why.

Harvey

On Monday morning, I watch Gemma remove the snow from our van outside before she heads to work. The first couple of weeks at her new job, it hadn’t fully hit me yet. But her new routine solidifies the realization that this is how it’s going to be from now on.

We might live together, yet we’ve never been more distant.

This heaviness presses on my chest, my arms tightening around the handles of my chair. The parts of my legs that have some sensation feel numb as hell today, like constant butterflies swarming around.

I hate it.

And I know I should be grateful, as the level of sensation in my legs has increased drastically over time.

I feel more—massages or light touches.

I sometimes feel tiny waves of pressure through my legs, like little pulses.

Despite that, the neuropathic pain is no joke. It’s as if my legs are falling asleep, like the hand or foot does at times.

Thank God Claire senses my mood and doesn’t push me all morning save for PT. Lucky for her, now that she’s here full-time, she gets to keep all the equipment at our place now.

I’m weaker today, and it’s driving me bonkers.

Just last week I was progressing, and now my limbs are reluctant to move.

My limbs are whores, I tell you—zero fucking loyalty.

I take a short nap afterward, then draw in my room, wondering how Claire’s keeping busy.

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