this floor.
This is it. This is where I’ll be if anyone needs me. Right here, because I can’t fucking get up.
“You ok in there?” Her voice is a whisper but I hear her. I can’t see her, but she’s out there.
“Where are you?” I manage, my throat raw. “I need some water,” I rasp, hating how I feel so useless right now but not really having enough in me to care or fight it. I just want to lie here and die.
Holy shit .
“I know.” She appears in the doorway with a glass of water for me and a cool rag, gently smiling that courageous smile. “Can I help you up?”
I nod, not wanting to use my voice because it hurts too fucking bad, she slowly helps me up and waits as I regain my balance. I can’t believe this is really happening. I felt so good earlier. Refreshed after my nap, the sex was fantastic, I really thought tonight was going to be a good night. Now I’ve puked my guts out and feel like I’m spinning and on fire at the same time. Once I’ve regained balance I take a drink of water, sipping it slowly as Alexis watches me intently.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Lane,” she whispers, her hand coming to my cheek.
I turn away from her because I know I look like shit and she doesn’t need to be touching that close to my mouth right now, but she’s adamant that she wants her hands on me and turns my face back to look at her.
“I love you. You’re fighting this and you’re going to get through it. I believe in you.”
Good thing she does. I’m starting to not believe in myself.
“I love you too,” I manage through an incredibly sore throat. “I’m so weak, babe. Let’s go back to bed.”
Weak, tired, nauseous.
She smiles and silently helps me back to bed, tucking the covers on my side before crawling in on the other side of the bed. She gives me my space, probably thinking that’s what I want, which I do, but I always need to touch her. She grounds me. She makes me feel normal, and everything else I’m feeling right now is anything BUT normal. I need a constant, and that constant is her.
My Al.
“Come here,” I whisper, reaching for her arm in the dark. The bed shifts as she moves over to me, just enough to make my stomach roll again. “Nooo,” I groan, rolling to the other side of the bed and trying to get out before vomiting all over. Barely making it to the bathroom before I start dry heaving, there’s nothing left in me but acid and it burns so fucking bad, but I can’t stop.
“Goddammit,” I mutter, cleaning my face off and splashing some cold water on my arms.
“It’s ok, baby,” she whispers from the doorway.
“I fucking hate this.”
“I know.”
“You don’t need to see all of this, Alexis,” I whisper with a raw throat as she wraps me into a hug.
“I don’t need to. I know that… I want to, Lane. I love you. I’m not leaving you.”
I grumble something about how stubborn she is and she laughs, then we finally head to bed and sleep the rest of the night. Well, she does. Every time I close my eyes the room starts to feel like it’s spinning and I feel like I’m going to vomit… so she sleeps... I lay here, my hand caressing her arm as I think about what I’m going to do with this new life of mine.
I feel like my mood and thoughts have been everywhere lately. I’m sure that’s pretty normal for someone in my situation, but I hate it. One minute I don’t want help, I don’t want to get better, I just want it to all be over… and the next minute I’m trying to fight it and lead as normal a life as I can. I can’t decide if I want help or not. I can’t decide if I am going back for the next treatment or not.
The only thing I can truly say I’m positive about anymore is the fact that I want Alexis. I want her for the rest of my life… whether that’s just a few months or years. She’s the only constant I’m positive, with one hundred percent certainty, that I want. That I know exactly what I want and my
This is it. This is where I’ll be if anyone needs me. Right here, because I can’t fucking get up.
“You ok in there?” Her voice is a whisper but I hear her. I can’t see her, but she’s out there.
“Where are you?” I manage, my throat raw. “I need some water,” I rasp, hating how I feel so useless right now but not really having enough in me to care or fight it. I just want to lie here and die.
Holy shit .
“I know.” She appears in the doorway with a glass of water for me and a cool rag, gently smiling that courageous smile. “Can I help you up?”
I nod, not wanting to use my voice because it hurts too fucking bad, she slowly helps me up and waits as I regain my balance. I can’t believe this is really happening. I felt so good earlier. Refreshed after my nap, the sex was fantastic, I really thought tonight was going to be a good night. Now I’ve puked my guts out and feel like I’m spinning and on fire at the same time. Once I’ve regained balance I take a drink of water, sipping it slowly as Alexis watches me intently.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Lane,” she whispers, her hand coming to my cheek.
I turn away from her because I know I look like shit and she doesn’t need to be touching that close to my mouth right now, but she’s adamant that she wants her hands on me and turns my face back to look at her.
“I love you. You’re fighting this and you’re going to get through it. I believe in you.”
Good thing she does. I’m starting to not believe in myself.
“I love you too,” I manage through an incredibly sore throat. “I’m so weak, babe. Let’s go back to bed.”
Weak, tired, nauseous.
She smiles and silently helps me back to bed, tucking the covers on my side before crawling in on the other side of the bed. She gives me my space, probably thinking that’s what I want, which I do, but I always need to touch her. She grounds me. She makes me feel normal, and everything else I’m feeling right now is anything BUT normal. I need a constant, and that constant is her.
My Al.
“Come here,” I whisper, reaching for her arm in the dark. The bed shifts as she moves over to me, just enough to make my stomach roll again. “Nooo,” I groan, rolling to the other side of the bed and trying to get out before vomiting all over. Barely making it to the bathroom before I start dry heaving, there’s nothing left in me but acid and it burns so fucking bad, but I can’t stop.
“Goddammit,” I mutter, cleaning my face off and splashing some cold water on my arms.
“It’s ok, baby,” she whispers from the doorway.
“I fucking hate this.”
“I know.”
“You don’t need to see all of this, Alexis,” I whisper with a raw throat as she wraps me into a hug.
“I don’t need to. I know that… I want to, Lane. I love you. I’m not leaving you.”
I grumble something about how stubborn she is and she laughs, then we finally head to bed and sleep the rest of the night. Well, she does. Every time I close my eyes the room starts to feel like it’s spinning and I feel like I’m going to vomit… so she sleeps... I lay here, my hand caressing her arm as I think about what I’m going to do with this new life of mine.
I feel like my mood and thoughts have been everywhere lately. I’m sure that’s pretty normal for someone in my situation, but I hate it. One minute I don’t want help, I don’t want to get better, I just want it to all be over… and the next minute I’m trying to fight it and lead as normal a life as I can. I can’t decide if I want help or not. I can’t decide if I am going back for the next treatment or not.
The only thing I can truly say I’m positive about anymore is the fact that I want Alexis. I want her for the rest of my life… whether that’s just a few months or years. She’s the only constant I’m positive, with one hundred percent certainty, that I want. That I know exactly what I want and my
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