Mio Amore Rosso

The Panic attack 🔥

All too quickly though, my arms were being pulled away from my body and Jason's frantic words finally made their way past Dick's. "Tim! Shit baby stop! Dammit, you're bleeding!"

I didn't move, didn't even flinch, just letting my arms fall limp at my sides. My whole body trembled and I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs.

My eyes were open, but so fuzzy with tears I didn't even notice we were pulling up to Jason's estate. The ringing in my ears was deafening, but at least it drowned out the broken record sentence in my brain.

A burning sensation started to fill my lungs as I wheezed, unable to inhale. Tightness balled up in my throat, leaving me with the ghostly feel of being choked. My body was pliable as thick arms grabbed me, wrapping around me and pulling me up.

My head lulled back as I gasped out, feeling very much like a fish out of water. I heard shouts from multiple people before being laid down, onto something soft and pillow like.

The burning was almost unbearable as my hands clutched at my chest, digging at my skin through my shirt. My vision was going dark, pixelated in whites and greys as my chest heaved for air that I couldn't, or wouldn't, give it.

Suddenly, everything around me went quiet, too quiet. An odd pressure was on my mouth, pushing against my lips. Instinctively, I pushed my hands up in front of me, grabbing onto something familiar, yet foreign.

When the pressure intensified, my eyes fluttered closed and all at once, I was gasping in air, choking it down greedily as my chest spasmed. The burn felt more alive now as I continued to pull air in and down into my lungs.

I kept my eyes closed, but came to realize the pressure on me was Jason's lips. I realized further that his hands were on my cheeks, holding my head carefully as he began to speak. Voice low and soft, but assertive in my ears. "That's it, Tim, just breathe."

And I did.

Still lying limp under Jason's gaze, I gulped down on the air around me, "There you go. That's it. There you go." His thumb was rubbing across my cheekbone in a soothing motion as I slowly regained my senses.

The overwhelming exhaustion that hit my body felt like a tidal wave as I let Jason's touch finally calm me. It calmed my mind, which now felt numb and coaxed me into sleep.

Somehow, even in my stuper, I knew when I woke up, Jason would be right there. Dick was wrong. We did have something special. Something unbelievable.

Maybe I was naive, young and stupid, but as I was gingerly lifted up again into Jason's arms, my head settled on his chest and as I felt his rapidly beating heart, I knew, it beat for me.

_______________________________________

1 year ago

The silence around me still seemed too loud as I hid under my covers. Light from the morning sun just peeking in through the curtains.

I didnt move. I didn't want to. Didn't want to accept what today was, or, what would have been anyway. Because now, after last night, it didn't mean anything anymore.

Almost six months wasted. Too many nights hopelessly wondering what I was doing wrong. Wondering why I couldn't be what they wanted. I couldn't do it for Bart or Tam and now, not for Stephane.

I wasn't hurting because I would miss the relationship, the company, or even them. I was hurting, aching, deep inside my chest and stomach, because no matter how hard I tried, how hard I fought, I couldn't make myself love them back.

Not in any way more than a friendship. I couldn't say the words that they said to me and mean them as fiercely as they had. I wanted so badly to, but I just couldn't.

Was I that broken and defective?

My body trembled at the thought. My limbs lay still and sore from the exhaustion that had creeped into me. I hadn't slept at all. Even when my tears finally dried and my eyelids were heavy, I couldn't find peace.

Guilt had gripped me tightly, crudely toying with my mind. Reminding me of every time I pushed welcoming arms away, turned to avoid wanting lips, stopped words before things got too deep. Too personal.

Because I didn't want it. Any of it.

But it wasn't because they weren't good enough. They were, as I thought, more than enough. But how could I love someone when their touch didn't bring me joy, satisfaction or arousal and instead, pain and discomfort?

I couldn't.

It wasn't fair to them. It wasn't fair to pretend when I felt trapped behind my own poker face. Exhausted from keeping myself distant, just enough, to keep holding onto the hope of an us, without actually giving it to them.

Stephane revealed to me, in heated words, that this was, infact, me. My own doing. My own fault. But, I didn't know how to stop it. I didn't know how to return the feelings that she and the others gave me.

And it hurt.

It stung.

Terrorizing my thoughts with an anecdote that I'd never find love. That i'd never feel the blazing desire to hold someone as close as they held me. The desire to want their touch, warm and soothing, on my own skin.

Skin, that to me, held no warmth. I wasn't welcoming. Sure I was nice. I have friends. I was likeable and charismatic. But even though I wanted and desperately desired something more, something stronger, I couldn't make myself follow through.

Even with my own family, touch wasn't something I found comfort in. It left me feeling blistered and bruised. Uncomfortable in my own skin.

Reeling further into my darkness, I cursed, feeling tears puddle up in the corners of my eyes. I was just broken. My past had made me this way. Made me unfeeling and emotionally paralyzed to the contact of anyone I cared about.

I made up my mind. Grudgingly and painfully, that I would never feel the connection of another's pure love and be able to freely return it. That i'd never be able to want and desire their touch, their kisses, their whole being. I was broken in that way.

And I always would be.