Embracing Rain

10 - Noah

1 0 - N O A H

"Okay, I'll tell you," I say softly, not completely sure why I agreed. My brain is all muddled, and I'm making way too many illogical decisions. Maybe Emma's right, in a way, about how getting this off my chest might help. But I don't know where to start, so I just sit there in silence, fiddling with my hands.

Eventually, Chance asks, "Would you be more comfortable on the couch?"

I don't know what else to do but nod. He stands up and places a hand on my back to lead me over to the living room. As he sits down, he pats the cushion next to him invitingly. I join him on the couch reluctantly, apathetically, letting my body slump down.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, and the sheer amount of genuine concern in his eyes makes me feel guilty. "You really don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I shake my head. "No, I should. I just don't know where to start." After a long pause, I look up at him, saying, "Have you ever heard of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome?"

"Chronic Fatigue Syndrome?" Chance looks confused. "You were tired all the time? I know this is going to come out wrong, but...doesn't everyone get tired? Why is there a special name for it?"

I sigh, burying my face in my hands. I can already feel the waves of dread and panic washing over me, but I push them down, reminding myself that he's only trying to help. "Yeah, that did come out wrong. But I know you didn't mean it like everyone else did, so it's okay. That's what everyone told me, but this is different."

"Different?"

"It's not just fatigue, it's worse. It's like you physically can't get out of bed in the morning because you're so tired even though you've slept for seventeen hours straight and it feels like you haven't slept at all and your arms just won't move, no matter how much you want them to. Like there's a weight holding you down."

I take a shuddering breath. Just talking about this makes me remember the feeling of everything, and the panic is getting harder and harder to hold at bay. My chest starts to feel tight, and every time my heart beats, it feels like there's an invisible force pulling me further and further into myself. I curl in until my head rests on my knees and my arms hug my legs and I can't fold myself any smaller. "Never mind. Just forget about it. You wouldn't understand. You wouldn't—"

I stop and remember to breathe when Chance rests his head on my shoulder and grabs my hand, coaxing it down from where I'm painfully gripping my head. He turns my chin so that my eyes meet his. "Then help me understand. You have to be willing to tell me so that I can understand."

"Sorry," I mumble. I want nothing more than to stop talking and just shut down. To retreat back into myself. But I'm so close to getting this all off my chest, and I don't want to let this opportunity slip away. "I thought you wouldn't want to hear because you might not want to get close to me. To get attached to me. Because of your moving and stuff. I don't know what it's like to move and leave people behind, but it sounds really sad."

Chance frowns slightly, his eyes trained on where I'm fiddling with my fingers. His hand still rests over mine, so every time I move my hands, he feels it. "It's not that I don't want to get attached because it'll hurt to leave. As cliché as that is, it makes sense. But that's not what I want. I want to get attached to someone so that I know what it's like to feel sad when I leave. Because even though it will be sad, it's even sadder not being able to say that I've ever missed someone. I just don't know what I'm doing. So please, tell me and help me understand."

"Okay." I don't pull my hand out of his grasp, finding the feeling of his hand wrapped around mine comforting, keeping me grounded. I simultaneously want to hug him and run away, and this strikes a good balance. "It all started when I got sick like this. Just a cold. I didn't think anything of it until three weeks had gone by and I hadn't gotten better. And then by a month later I was getting worse."