You Are Loved

The view outside my window was dark, even with the blinds down I already knew. It was late, and during winter there was positively no hope for any source of lumination. That is other than that produced by a light or the moon that rested just above the naked trees.

I couldn’t sleep which was something that came to me as no surprise. I had always had the slightest case of insomnia and had refused to do anything about it. After all it wasn’t like it had affected my personal life that much. So I laid there, eyes scanning the ceiling above me, occasionally staring at the pictures on my digital photo frame.

I don’t remember how long I stayed in that spot, restless, annoyed, just waiting for a peaceful sleep to overcome me so that I could carry on with the next day. It was the ringing though, the dulled out tone that seemed to call to me from beneath my jacket on the floor. Confused I had to wait, unsure as to what it could be until it hit me that it was my phone.

To say that I was even more annoyed was an understatement. I hated getting phone calls after nine o’clock, and it only doubled when I was getting messages at almost midnight. At first I almost ignored it, wanting to return the irritation that it had given me. But I found myself standing there in the middle of my room, a tired frown on my face as I read that one word over and over again.

Goodbye.

It made no sense, my mind had stalled as I focused oh so intently on that one word. What did he mean goodbye? That question was only answered in a way that caused fear to sweep over my body.

This is it.

I had never been so shaky, in all the times that things had gone wrong in my life I had never felt like this before. Even when I told my little brother that I loved him as he went in for emergency surgery, my gut told me to be strong, that he would be fine. My gut wasn’t speaking to me this time, I felt like I had fallen into a void.

No its not. I had told him, there was no way that this could be the end.

You’re too young to worry about this, just talk to me, I’m here.

Nobody cares about me. Why should I stay?

I care, I told him over and over again. Wasn’t I enough?

I stood there for how long I can’t remember. My hands were cold, fingers locking up from the nerves that were spreading throughout my body.

Things will get better. I hated to use those words that I had heard so many times myself, but it was true. I begged him to listen, to understand, realize that I would never leave him.

I had never felt so helpless, so alone, and here I was trying to be the voice of reason, that light of hope for someone who desperately needed it. I had nothing more than a name and a cell phone number. I knew nothing of where he lived, I had no idea where he was. I only had hope and it was it fading faster than time itself at that moment.

Go to your Grandma, someone I don’t care. Just wake them up and talk to them, I had ordered.

Eyes shut tight, stinging from the tears that had been threatening to fall. I had to be strong though, right? Even if he couldn’t see me I had to be strong for the both of us.

Okay. He had replied and I felt like part of the weight had been lifted.

So I stood there waiting. The worry that had taken over my body had finally worn me out as I desperately tried to cling to consciousness. I couldn’t give up on him, I wouldn’t.

A text never came back after the dozen I had sent him. I waited and I waited, till finally the light on my phone began to burn my eyes. I fell asleep that night and for the first time in a long time I had nightmares. Nightmares so bad, so real that I feared they were my reality.