yesterday

I broke down at GC's place yesterday evening. It built up really slowly, and I think the ultimate trigger was him building a joint for twenty minutes solid which kind of got my frustration rolling to the brink. I just... imploded, basically. I was genuinely scared that I'd physically fall apart if I didn't curl up in a ball and tense up so nothing would disappear. I felt like if I didn't breathe, maybe I'd stay in one piece. And everything hurt. Not physical pain but more like there was pure sadness flowing through my veins instead of blood. I know this sounds unnecessarily poetic but how else should I explain it? And all the while there was a hand carressing my head, and now that I think of it, that hand of his was the only thing that kept me focused on staying in one piece. I don't know how it looked like to him. I don't know how it felt like for him. I don't know if I'm brave enough to ask. After I'd stopped crying I wanted to tell him everything was going to be okay. I wanted to say his name and look into his eyes and say that the worst was over and that he didn't have to make such a sad face. But I couldn't move. And for the next two hours I couldn't speak. I literally wasn't able to speak. This has never happened to me before. No matter how much I wanted to say something, I couldn't bring myself to do so. I just couldn't. But then as I regained energy bit by bit my voice came back too, eventually. Thank God.

He's asleep now, snoring a bit from time to time. He's just like me when it comes to weekend mornings - they don't exost for us, they're there to sleep through. Except today I'm being a creeper and watching him sleep while writing a post about my minor mental breakdown the evening before.

/P.