03/05/17

​

I didn’t know it at the time, but I had a double ear infection, bronchitis, and a sinus infection. The word “exhausted” doesn’t even begin to explain how I was feeling at that moment. 

 

Rewind the clock about three months.

 

It’s my nineteenth birthday. I’m newly single, kind of sad, and have a whole new university to explore. My sister, a senior at the time, threw me a surprise party with my sorority pledge class. Shortly after, we headed to Pi Kappa Alpha. 

 

Ew. Fraternities. Gross.

 

For someone with social anxiety, a fraternity party is what I would imagine hell feels like. And by “someone with social anxiety” I mean me.

 

I was about to leave when a cute guy caught my eye. *sips drink* I decided to go over and dance with him, which is so unlike me. I prefer to be on the outskirts of a party. There, but not taking up enough space to be noticed. But, something felt different. For the first time since being at college, I felt comfortable in my own skin. 

 

We went back to his dorm room where we didn’t stop talking for six straight hours.

Usually when you meet somebody new, you hide your baggage. You let it slowly spill out over a long period of time and hope that it’s not too much. Well, I threw caution to the wind that night and spilled my guts. I figured I’d never see him again, so it didn’t matter.

 

He asked about my tattoo. I explained that I was in the middle of court proceedings, and that I would be going up against my rapist during his trial within the next few weeks. My tattoo is a reminder to stick up for myself no matter how hard it might be.

 

I asked about his tattoo. He told me about losing his brother to cancer, how he remembers the day that his brother was diagnosed, and how his sister donated bone marrow in an attempt to save his life. His tattoo was in honor of his brother.

 

We talked about support systems, mental health, and the toll that trauma takes on a person. After hours of intense conversation, we dozed off. 

 

When he texted me three days later asking me on a date, I was confused. Yeah, we had a great conversation. But, I essentially told him that I was an unstable mess, a ticking time bomb. And he still wanted to see me again? 

 

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

 

We can skip through *most* of the sappy, lovey stuff back to March 5th. 

 

Realizing that we would be leaving school in about a month, we tried to spend as much time together as possible. So, naturally, we decided to cram ourselves into his twin XL dorm bed in hopes of getting a good night sleep. I woke up in his room, but he wasn’t there. Stuck to the pillow was a note that read, “Had to go to english, didn’t want to wake you. Stay as long as you want.” I, being as sick as I was, went back to sleep immediately.

 

He had come back to his dorm and saw that I was still sleeping (at 2:30pm). He realized how bad of shape I was actually in, so he went back out to get me soup and Sudafed. I woke up to him gently rubbing my back. I was very confused and had forgotten where I was, but waking up to his face made me feel calm. 

 

That was rare for me. But, I still feel it to this day. With every interaction, I feel at ease. I feel safe. I feel loved. I feel valued. I feel at home. 

 

I thought that I loved him that morning when I woke up, but if only I could express how I feel now. 

 

The word love almost doesn’t do it justice.