everything we thought we knew

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I shoot up in bed, my body covered in cold sweat and my breathing erratic. Desperately my hands search for a reminder that he's still here with me.

He's...gone.

Beau's always beside me when I wake up. Why must it be today of all days that he's gone?

It's been a while since my last 'lost episode'. Going from having them once or twice depending on the day to going a little over a week without them happened to be the smoothest of transitions. I almost forgot what it was like to be tormented endlessly in my sleep. I forgot what it was like to wake up from hours of panic and sheer terror. What coming down from that was like.

If he was here, Beau would have pulled me out of that state of mind at a moment's notice. He wouldn't have let it go as far as it might have if it left me breathless and still searching for a way out in my waking hours. My nightmare would have faded away into the comfort of his arms. His kisses would have restored my breath. His touch could have soothed the panic tensing my muscles.

But I'm awake. And he isn't here.

There's no safe space in sight.

I shouldn't be so dependent on him to do these things for me. He'll be back soon, he can't see me this way. It'd make him feel terrible about leaving me in the first place and I don't want him to feel that way ever again. Not for me, at least. I'm strong, he's told me time and time again. If he can bring himself to believe that sort of thing, there's got to be a reason for it. There has to be something inside of me that can get me out of this. Without him.

I can do this by myself. I don't need him to feel like myself again. I don't need anybody to fix me. I've got this, right? Deep breaths, that's all I need. Water to calm my nerves. Anything he provides me when I find myself in this kind of state.

With the constricted feeling in my throat, it feels as though something, or someone has got a sturdy grip on me. A vengeful one. I open my mouth, but all that arises are shaky, weak breaths. It's as if whatever's at the back of my mind pulling the strings here is amusing itself with making things more difficult. Tears leak out of my eyes out of pure frustration and I can feel that thing threatening to take me under.

A car crept up slowly. It was a pitch black night. The only illumination was the bright white headlights.

Clamping my hands over my ears in an attempt to make every word stop, every memory subside, to keep every dark thing I've repressed for so long come to a halt for my own sake. I don't need this right now. This is possibly the last thing I wanted. I'm trying to do better and the same old shit keeps setting me back. Why?

"Look at her, out here all by herself," the familiar brunette in the passenger seat had said. I didn't need to look at them to know who they all were.

No, this can't happen. I can't go on and spiral now. I throw the covers off me, the same ones that were trapping the warmth against my body in hopes that it would remotely compare to the gentle calm I get with Beau. I'm in his bed, smelling his scent, warming up in his sheets, but it's just not him. It's not his skin brushing across mine. It's not his soft hair my fingers are running through. It's not his gentle voice I'm hearing. It's that god awful inner narrative of mine. And right now she's feeling meaner than usual.

"Can I get one night, Gina? Just one fucking night where you and your psycho bitches leave me the hell alone," I spat out harshly. I'd never been like that before, but I couldn't lie now and say it didn't feel good in the spur of the moment.

One night was all I'd asked for. One night was all it took. One night and everything was ripped away from me. Everything that had once been, everything that could have happened if I stayed. One night to get out of that torment cost lives. One fucking November night.

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