Tinder - D.JH.

thirty-two

     I'm in a whole other world. Literally. My eyes are closed and I can feel nothing around me, like meditation but this kind is depression-induced. I feel something prodding and poking at my shoulder. "Maya?" it says.

Squinting open my puffy eyes, I see that Andrea is standing over me.

"Sorry," she frowns, "I let myself in."

I shrug.

"Are you feeling okay?"

I shrug again.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asks, tilting her head as I sit up.

I shake my head no, "Thanks, though."

"No problem at all." she smiles, sitting next to me. "I brought you food." she says, sitting a paper bag down on the sofa table in front of us.

"Not hungry." I say.

"Well, you must be pretty uncomfortable. Want to take a shower?" she asks.

I shrug.

"Okay, not to be rude, but you need one. So, let's go." she says, pulling me up.

I slowly follow as she pulls me to the bathroom, turning on the water and setting the tap to the right temperature.

"C'mon." she says. After a while of noticing I wasn't going to get undressed, she decides she was going to do it for me. "You know, I don't know how they let you out of the hospital." she says.

I frown.

"Seeing as you're actually brain dead." she lifts my shirt up over my head and I start crying.

"Oh, babe." she pulls me into an awkward hug where my bra is against her shirt. "Not brain dead, just depressed. I'm sorry, love." she frowns.

After she takes off my clothes, she steadies my hand as I step into the shower, then she closes the door, sits on the toilet, and waits.

As soon as I set foot into the shower, I feel sick to my stomach. I almost pass out as I remember why.

Steamy handprints press to the glass.

Moaning is heard throughout the room.

Silence.

     "Hey, baby?"

     "Yes, Dan?"

     "I love you, and I'm never gonna leave you. You know that, right?"

     I press the heels of my hands to my temples as hard as I can, gripping my hair, "Get out!" I scream at the top of my lungs, "Get the fuck out of my head! Leave me alone."

     "Maya!" Andrea yells at me as I hit myself in the head with my hand.

     "Go the fuck away!" I scream more.

     "Maya!" she repeats, pulling me out of the shower. "Maya, are you okay?" she asks, wrapping a towel around my soaking, shaking body. "Maya?" she repeats.

     I go limp in her arms, my breathing slowing considerably.

     "I'm not supposed to be here." I tell her, laying in her lap with a towel around my body like a child.

     "How so?" she asks me.

     "Dan and I are supposed to be together, we're supposed to support each other. I don't know how I got here, but I don't want to be here." I say.

     Andrea ignores the fact that I'm soaking her shirt by laying my wet head on her shoulder, and continues, "I think everybody has a place and a purpose here on this planet." she says, rubbing little circles into my bare arm with her thumb.

     "Everyone?" I ask.

     "Everyone except Perez Hilton and Donald Trump, yes." she says and the corners of my lips turn up, slightly, but still something.

     "Andrea?" I ask.

     "Yes?" she answers.

     "I think I need to be checked into somewhere." I say.