Frankly Told: I Got It
The room held an eerie mirror to the sunset and maintained this purple-ish glow in which he sat, alone. The papers in his hands felt like tonnes of lead and he couldn’t pull them back up so he let them fall to the ground.
Outside the door, he heard the children laughing and talking loudly. Their golden voices spelt happiness but he could hardly taste it with the bitterness in his mouth. A lump clawed its way up and sat in his throat like an entitled brat. Tears absolutely refused to come out, leaving his eyes with a burning sensation and an uncomfortable itch.
He had the door creek softly and his ears perked up to whomever walked in.
“Is everything okay?” his wife’s voice took him lovingly.
“Yeah,” he scoffed and sniffled. “I just needed a breather, these children have too much energy.”
His wife chuckled and walked towards him. Each step she took made the voice in him shrink more and more.
“I understand,” she sat beside him on the bed with a sigh.
There was silence slightly strangled by the noise of the children outside the bedroom.
“Are you sure you are okay?” she asked again.
“I’m fine,” he tried to fake a smile but it dissipated.
“Hmm…” was all she said to his response.
Inside he knew he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her again and it was taking everything in his power to stay strong.
“I’ve seen you sit in the car for hours on end after you get home from work,” she pointed out.
“At first, I thought it was just the routine half hour or so of you just taking time for yourself so I never prodded about it,” she continued. “It’s been slowly increasing for the past month and I’m a little worried.”
“Is there something not happening or?” she prodded.
“No no,” he said, patting her thigh. “I got this.”
“I believe you,” she affirmed. “However, we are a team. Please don’t feel like you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone. I’ve got shoulders too and they are strong as well.”
He chuckled in appreciation of her efforts to make him feel okay.
“I know,” he nodded as she placed her hand on his.
“You know, you can always talk to me,” she said softly.
He nodded in silent acceptance. A cool breeze wafted through the room and forced the papers to dance at his feet.
“What’s this?” she asked, scooping them like a hawk would a lowly field mouse.
He tried to stop her but realized halfway, any rash action would only entrench the suspicions she had. Sadness flooded her eyes as she flipped through the papers.
“What’s this?” she asked again.
“What’s this?” she repeated.
“Look at me,” she turned his face towards hers. “What’s going on?”
Tears had started streaming down her face. Her hands felt soft on his face and even though he couldn’t physically express it, his walls fell. She pulled him into a hug that felt like she was trying to gather every piece of him and hold him in her arms.
“Hey, hey,” he started. “It’s okay.”
“No!,” she responded sharply. “No, it’s not!”
“It’s okay,” he repeated.
“Look at me,” he asked of her. “Look.”
She resisted his gentle pushes and held on tightly. He stopped fighting it and let it happen. No words could change it.
“Why couldn’t you talk to me?” she asked. “I’m right here. Have I not been there for you?”
“You have,” he said.
“Have I not seen you?” she asked. “Where did you feel like you weren’t heard?”
“Nowhere,” he responded.
She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. She touched his face and caressed it tenderly. Then after a beat of silence, placed her head against his chest.
“Then what’s this?” she asked.
“It’s me falling apart,” he said. “It’s me finally accepting that I just wasn’t strong enough to brave it through.”
“How come?” she asked. “How come you couldn’t just come to me?”
“Because it felt like I missed the window,” he answered. “I messed up at the beginning by saying things and it left me feeling weak so I carried it all and tried to be strong. I swam and swam and swam but I looked up to realize, I had been too strong for too long to fall back and show you that I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“I wrote this weeks ago,” he said. “When I was at my lowest. I had gathered every bit of strength to walk up to you after meditating about it in the car. When I got into the house, you had all gone to sleep. You fell asleep on top of the covers, you were so tired. I couldn’t wake you up for this so I sat at the dining table and wrote this.”
She sniffled into his chest and he placed his hand on her back. In his head, he was cussing himself out because this had to come out now. He thought of the children who were in the sitting room, playing with their friends and cousins, obliviously.
“I’m okay now,” he said. “Nothing is going to happen.”
He looked down at his wife who had cuddled herself into him. Her breathing sounded like she was trying to control herself. He nodded himself to submission and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m always fine, I’m okay…. I gotta be,” he said softly. “I don’t want to feel like I messed up again.”
As the words left his mouth, inside, he felt the image he had built of himself over the years chip. In her eyes, he thought, I’m failing right now. I’m just running away right now, his thoughts were screaming.
“Hey,” he spoke in her ear. “I got it. I’m not going anywhere.”
