So.Classes are easier. I am alive. Next semester, Burkey is teaching the class I'm failing right now, which makes it easier to drop the current class with a passing grade and take it under his direction. This 200 level class should not be this hard.
I'm on Elavil now. Half a pill just before bedtime until Sunday when I increase to a full pill.
They make me able to sleep at midnight. Which up until this Monday night, I had been unable to do in three years or more.
I told Greg that night what was going on in my head. I'd seen him in the cafeteria and hinted that I wanted to speak with him later because I really need my friends and consider him one of them. He stops by later and I tell him, matter of factly like it's nothing but feel stupid the entire time telling him this like he's my boyfriend.
"I don't know why I'm even saying any of this to you. All I really need you to know is that you don't have to be afraid to touch me," I say, clearing off my bed as he leans up against the bedpost. I look up at him, his brown curly and floppish hair darting off in different directions. He starts laughing nervously as though he was about to set fire to my house, unbeknownst to me. He walks in front of me, the khaki pants shifting with his legs, playfully slaps my leg but then sits down next to me. "What?" I repeatedly ask while he laughs, "I can't take you laughing at me right now. What the fuck is so funny?" He keeps his hand on my leg and looks at me, but I'm looking down, wiping away a tear and getting angrier.
I've had trouble crying in front of people. And Greg looks at me, puts both arms around me and just holds me. My fingers interlocking with his while I'm crying into his shirt. We sort of fall backwards and I'm a teary mess.
We're lying together on my bed, his arm beneath me, holding onto my hand while I'm turned towards him with my hand on his chest, clutching at the shirt. Occasionally, Greg kisses my forehead. "What is so bad about your life that you feel so destructive?"
And I tell him all the reasons and he doesn't criticize any of them. We commiserate about doctors and all their stupid words and practices. I just listen to him breathe and just be. "I understand," he says, "I don't know what to say to you about this.""If I had to get up and go to the bathroom, would you still be here when I get back?"He looks at me, blinks a few times and smiles as I hover over him. "Are you saying you have to go?""Yes. So will you?" I asked again and he shakes his head yes.
I took my time to turn off the lights in the room cause I knew that the Elavil would make me tired. Turning on a small desk lamp, I get the room ready for bed and tell him I'll be right back.
When I return, he won't let me brush my teeth or check my alarm or do anything that would take away from sleep. "Just get under the covers," Greg says and lifts up my sheets.
I stare at him and then glance down at the bed. He takes my hand and makes me get under. "Are you coming back to where you once were?" I asked, looking up at him. He smiles and lies down next to me, arms back around me and kissing my forehead.
Greg then tells me that he has to get going and do some work for class the next day. He sits down after shutting the lights off in the room and we talk again. I tell him that I don't want to put him in any position that I would put my boyfriend in (because he is not)."I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me or coming in my room or anything like that. If you need me, I'm around, except for this weekend when I go home but don't be afraid to come and find me," he looks down at me, holding my hand.
He tightens his grip on it before letting go and standing up. The sheets are pulled up to cover me again so that I won't go lock the door when he leaves. He wants me to sleep and just leaves it unlocked.
"Goodnight," he says, hugging me one last time.
It is midnight. I woke up to my alarm 9 and a half hours later.
