Can I Come Feel Terrible Next To You?

I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to write about it. I just want to sit here and feel it. Then, I want to look over and see you.

The purity of your silent understanding soothes my invisible wounds.  I just want to watch you read. I just want to listen to you talk on the phone while I nap. Do you mind if I lay on your couch and use your voice to ease myself into and out of a few dreams?  I just want to take up slightly less psychic and gestural space than is usual for me. I just want to come feel terrible next to you.

I only need a few minutes because things are pretty okay with me for the most part. I know this couple—they’re married now—and one time when the girl felt sad, the boy said, “But you’ve got all your teeth, you lucky girl!” I have all my teeth. I have all my teeth and more.

So right now I just need a few minutes in a room, just a somber interstitial.  I’ll sit here and let these feelings move by me like a truck across a freeway overpass.  You are kind enough to let my spool unravel, knowing I promise to clean everything up when I’m done. You always know all the right words to say and how to keep them to yourself at a time like this—you are heroically still.

I won’t make this a habit. Everybody on earth has to pull their own weight; everyone on earth has to endure their own gravity. So if I can just come by for a little while—to feel terrible—I would really appreciate it.  I don’t like feeling terrible, sometimes it’s just necessary. What I like is knowing that you’ll be there with me. What I like is knowing you’ll say, “Yes,” before I ask. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

image – T. Fernandes

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