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Tossing and turning.
Your brain won’t shut up.
The past keeps bleeding through the holes of your mind, taking over your concious. You know that’s not how life is now, but your mind keeps tearing itself apart. Tearing open old wounds, and the blood that leaks through them is just as fresh as the day they were first made.
You’re stuck here, all alone.
You don’t pray. But, at a time like this, you wonder if you should. Even if you don’t believe, maybe the act in of itself will quiet your mind.
But, it won’t. It doesn’t. Nothing can make it shut up.
All you can do is keep your eyes closed, and hope that the night will pass soon. That you’ll end up asleep.
You cling onto that hope. Even as it threatens to slip through your grasp.
More of your failures come to the forefront of your mind.
And it slips away.
Then the door squeaks open. A muffled, disgruntled noise.
You peer over at Trent, trying to come in. His attempt at stealth thwarted by the door hinge. He bonks his head against the door, resting on it.
“Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep, I don’t wanna have sex tonight. Just need some peace and quiet.”
You clear your throat, “Wasn’t asleep in the first place.”
He walks in, gently closing the door. Pajamas and his leather jacket. Still an odd combo. “Remind me to fix that-you haven’t slept? It’s really late, baby.”
“I just…can’t.” You scoot closer into the bed, pulling back the covers for him. “Brain won’t shut up. Just keeps screaming at me. Too tired to do anything to fix it.”
He puts his jacket away, joining you in bed. “Well, what’s it screaming about?”
“Past mistakes, possible future failures, what a loser I am. The usual.”
He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. You rest your head on his chest. “You’re not a loser.”
“I feel like one.”
Trent shakes his head, “No, your mind keeps telling you that, but you don’t have to listen to it. I know it sounds hard, but I know you can.” Running his fingers through your hair, he sighs. “You’ll be okay. Your mind will calm down, and you can get some rest.”
“Should I even ask how late it is?”
You see him grab your alarm clock off the ground, long since knocked over by you in a fit of rage, but he keeps it down there. “Nah.”
“You just came in here for a break from the noise?”
“And to lay beside ya. I dunno if I can sleep either.”
“You sure it wouldn’t be better to just get up now?”
“We should at least try to sleep. C’mon.”
Trent pulls the blankets up, tucking you both in. Strong arms wrapped around you, head resting against yours.
Under the covers, you rest a hand on his chest. He finds your hand and holds it. Rubbing his thumb against it.
“You’ll be okay.” He whispers.
Quiet allows the chaos to seep back through. All these things you could’ve done, or could’ve prevented yourself from doing. The reality of your choices doesn’t matter in the dark. In the daylight, you know you did the best you could have done, even if your best could be other people’s worst. But, it doesn’t matter. Those choices have long since been made, and in the middle of the night, there are much fewer choices. Yet so much time to think everything over. Constantly repeating what could’ve been.
You try to drown it out by focusing on his heartbeat. His gentle breathing. There’s someone beside you now. He wasn’t there back then. A clear sign of moving forward.
It works for a moment, but…
Fear of the future, of the unknown now creeps through, and with that, you start to cry. Frustration and despair bubbling inside you.
Trent rubs your back, “I know. I know.”
He grabs a few tissues from your nightstand, handing them to you.
You can’t stop crying, but he’s not forcing you to stop. Just alongside you for the ride. You bury your face in his neck.
“Just let it out, baby.”
And you scream. Years of mental torment vocalized. He holds you tightly as it all comes out.
Your cries get softer as time passes. And you wear yourself out. Settling. Resting. Tired yourself out.
Trent gently pulls your head back, cleaning your face (and his neck) with tissues.
“I’m sorry.” you mumble out.
“Don’t be. Nothin’ to be sorry about.”
You two shift, laying on your sides. He pulls you in close and you wrap yourself around him. Solid as a rock.
“You needed to let it out. I’m just happy I could help.” A gentle kiss to your forehead, then your lips. Your cold heart warms.
“Now, get some sleep.”
“Thanks.”
And he smiles. And you smile with him. Hope blooms in your chest. A small spark, but it’s something.
Something easier to hold on to.
The fear of it slipping away remains, but for now, your grip is strong.
His forehead rests against yours. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight…love you.”
He chuckles, “Love you too.”
Finally quiet reclaims the room, and your mind.
Sleep at last.