Imagines and Preferences

Fourth of July: Alex Wolff

The second you turn around and don't see Alex, you know something is wrong. Normally, he never leaves your side especially in such a crowded place like the park on the fourth of July. Now though, he is nowhere to be seen. You look around for a minute, thinking maybe he had gone to the bathroom. After a few minutes though, you start to get worried and start wandering around the park calling out his name. You stop at the front entrance where a security guard is standing, observing the fireworks overhead.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you happen to see a guy come this way, about yay high?" you ask, holding up your hand.

He nods, "some kid came tearing out of here like a bat out of hell a few seconds after the fireworks started."

"Was he wearing a blue shirt and swim trunks with stars and stripes on them?" you ask.

"Yeah, I think he was."

You sigh in relief, it was Alex.

"Thank you so much," you say.

"No problem, ma'am."

You go to walk away but the security officer stops you.

"Oh, and ma'am?"

"Yes."

He hesitates before saying what he wants to say, "I had a brother-in-law who was a veteran. Marine. He suffered from severe PTSD. He died a couple of years back, but the one thing I've always remembered is the look on his face whenever his PTSD was triggered.  Your friend, whoever he is, had the exact same look on his face. I know it might not be my place, but I thought you should know."

He takes out a notepad and writes on it before handing the slip of paper to you, "this is the number for a place that can help."

You nod taking the paper, "thank you for your help."

"No problem, ma'am and I hope you find your friend."

You leave the security officer and quickly make your way out of the park. If what the security officer said was true, then Alex's PTSD had been triggered by the fireworks. It takes you about ten minutes to get home, but only five to find Alex sitting next to the toilet. His head is in his hands and his body is shaking from the sobs racking his body. You grab a rag and run it under some cold water before kneeling down in front of him. Gently putting your hand under his chin, you force him to look at you before dabbing the rag across his forehead. He is looking at you but you can tell that he's not focused on you but whatever is going on in his head. You set the rag on the sink and grab Alex's hand, placing it over your heart and holding it there.

"Focus on me, okay? On my heartbeat."

You gently start tapping Alex's hand that is on your chest to match the rhythm of your heartbeat. You repeat the action a few more times and eventually, Alex's hand starts tapping with yours and he looks more focused. After a few minutes, his hand stops, and he looks at you before pulling you into a hug.

"I'm sorry."

You shake your head, "you have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I'm the one that's sorry. I didn't think about the fireworks triggering you."

"I didn't think they would but then it just...it got so hard to breath and..."

You can tell he is starting to fade again, so you quickly grab his face between your hands and look him in the eye.

"Hey, hey, breathe. Just breathe, okay? In and out."

Alex matches his breath to yours and slowly calms back down. You sit down next to him, your head on his shoulder. He intertwines his fingers with yours, his thumbs rubbing circles on the back of your hand. With your other hand, you reach into your pocket, where you stuck the slip of paper and hand it to Alex.

"What's this?" he asks.

"The number of a place that can help. I think it's time you got some professional help, Alex."

He's silent as he looks down at the paper in his hand. At first, you think that he's going to throw it away, deny that he needs help. But then he reaches out and grabs your phone that's sitting on the sink. Sighing, he dials the number and waits for the ring. You listen quietly as he explains how he got PTSD and how it has affected him. He also explains how he jus had an attack due to the fireworks and how this attack has been one of many in the past couple of weeks. After a few minutes, he thanks whoever is on the other line and hangs up. Setting your phone on the floor next to him, he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it before looking at you.

"Thank you," he says.

"For what?"

"For being here through this. For loving me, for pushing me to get help, for...for everything. I don't know what I would do without you."

You smile before curling your hand in his hair, your forehead against his.

"I can't imagine being anywhere else and I promise you I will be here every step of the way, no matter how long it takes," you say.

He smiles before pressing his lips to yours.

"I love you."

"And I love you," you say.

Alex stands up and helps you off the floor. He starts to head to the door, but you stop him with a hand on his arm.

"How about we finish our fourth of July celebration here at home?" you ask.

He looks at you, "are you sure? I know you love fireworks."

"I do, but I love you more. If we stay here, then we can watch them on tv and mute the volume."

Alex smiles at you before grabbing the remote and turning on the tv, he quickly hits the mute button.

"See? It's like we're actually there," you say.

Alex shakes his head before pulling you into another kiss.

"Happy fourth, baby."

"Happy fourth."