This Is Torturous

When morning came, I slipped out of bed without waking John, which was a lot more difficult than usual since he was practically lying on me. He must have still been freaked out when he fell asleep.

Once I relieved my bladder, I threw on some thick tights and a teal, lace dress. Quietly, I moved back into the bathroom to brush my teeth and put my makeup on. Once I did that, I made my way into the kitchen, where I started up the Keurig machine after pouring water into the compartment on the side. As it heated the water up, I put a piece of wheat toast in the toaster oven. When that was toasting, the Keurig was “ready to brew”. I placed the tea container in the spot on the top and put my favorite mug underneath, where it would distribute from. The cup quickly filled and my bread finished toasting.

The peanut butter was spread out on the toast and I leaned against the counter, thinking about the night before. It was almost nine in the morning, which meant the neighborhood was still relatively quiet. It was moments like these I wished for a backyard, or a big window to look out of. Morning was my favorite time of day even though I hated being up early. I liked the stillness, the quiet. Nothing much happened in the early morning. I liked that. It was a time to just enjoy life. No loud people. No disruptions. No one else was hardly awake.

I was in a daze as I stared at the time on the stove. 8:48. 8:49. Blinking, I threw my half eaten toast down on the paper towel I was using as a plate and let out a deep breath through my nose. My mind kept thinking back to my panic attack, to John's worried eyes. I owed him an explanation, but I had no idea what to say to him. I couldn't tell him I was panicking over being married; he'd take it the wrong way and get upset.

With another long breath, I grabbed hold of my mug and moved back into our room to finish getting ready for work. My eyes immediately fell on John's sleeping frame when I walked through the door frame. The faint light coming in behind the blinds made it possible to see the look of worry etched on his face. It broke my heart.

Forcing my eyes away, I went to the bathroom to throw my hair up in a teased ponytail. I didn't wear them often, but I couldn't care less about what my hair looked like on such a morning.

I was standing in the doorway of the walk-in-closet with my jacket and scarf on and heels in my hand, drinking the rest of my tea. I couldn't stop watching John. It was nine, the time I needed to leave, but something was keeping me there.

Finally, I gained the courage to set my mug down on his nightstand since it was closest, and walk over to the edge of the bed to lean down and kiss his forehead, “Babe,” I said softly.

His eyes fluttered open and I smiled softly at him, “Sparrow?” He was confused.

“Hi.”

He propped himself up on his elbow so he could wake himself up and look at me better. I could tell he was still half asleep, though, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

I shook my head, “No. I just wanted to say bye before I left for work.”

He seemed to visibly relax, “Oh, okay. Well, bye. Have a good day.”

I smiled softly, “I love you.”

His head hit the pillow again, “I love you, too.” With a kiss, I was out the door. The feeling of dread was almost out of the pit of my stomach.

I was due to work at nine-thirty and was supposed to open at ten. My lunch was at one and I got off at four-thirty. To pass time at work, I put on Anthony Green and got the store ready for the day. I liked my job, but some days were just plain boring. Boring days left me with time to think and I wasn't in the mood to think at that moment in time. So instead of freaking myself out some more about John and our imminent marriage, I thought about my career.

I was considering going to school for some kind of fashion degree. I hadn't told anyone yet since it was merely just an idea in my head, but I was sure everyone would be supportive of it. I still needed to look into what exactly I wanted to go for.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was to meet Ryder at a cafe down the street. He was ten minutes late, like usual, but when he sat down, he instantly sensed something was wrong, “Why do you look so worried? You're going to get wrinkles.”

I ignored the addition to his question and answered, “I had a panic attack last night.”

He stopped looking over the menu and locked eyes with me, “Why? Are you okay?”

I nodded, but stopped myself. Was I okay? “I think I'm fine for now.”

“Why did you have a panic attack all of a sudden? I mean, you haven't had one since Erika passed, right?”

Once again, I nodded, “Well, this,” I stuck my left hand out and showed him my ring, “happened, and now I can't help but feel like I'm making a mistake.”

His eyes widened at the ring on my finger, “Shut the fuck up.” He said, quite loudly, causing a few people to look over at us. I looked at him, unamused, “Singer Boy popped the question?!” I nodded, glumly. “Why are you upset about that? He's everything you've ever hoped and dreamed for!”

Sighing in frustration, I brought back my hand and slapped my right hand to my forehead, leaning against it, “Because I'm only twenty-two and he's twenty-three. I don't know. I think we might be too young for marriage.”

He rolled his eyes, “Sparrow, you're at the age where everyone is getting married. Hell, half of our graduating class is married with babies already. If I was straight I'd probably be married. I'd be married now if it was legal.”

My eyes widened, “You'd marry Shawn?”

The look he was giving me made me feel like that was a stupid question, “I've been with him for three years. I'm pretty sure he's my soul mate. Isn't John yours? You sure talk about him like he is.”

I sighed, “I want to marry him, I do. I was really excited and happy about it when it happened, but then there's this part of me that just fills with dread every time I think about it, which is what happened last night. I don't know. I'm probably thinking too much into it.”

He eyed me suspiciously, twirling the straw in the cup of water that I got for him, “When did he propose?”

“New Years Eve, three days ago.” I answered and his eyes widened again.

“He proposed three days ago and you're already doubting it? Why did you say yes in the first place?!”

Groaning, I crossed my arms across the table and buried my head in them, “I want to marry him. I don't know what I'm thinking, I'm sure it's just nerves.” Ryder hummed in response. “You should have seen John last night, though; he was such a mess. He wanted to call the paramedics and was just plain freaking out.” I said once I raised my head again.

He raised an eyebrow at me, “Does he know about your history with panic attacks?” Almost embarrassed, I shook my head. “Sparrow, you're going to marry the guy. You gotta tell him about your darkest hour.”

With another groan, I slammed my head against the table, “I know.”

“You should do it soon.”

Lifting my head, I nodded, “Okay, I will. I just don't want him to worry.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest, “He's going to worry if you just keep having panic attacks.”

Shaking my head, I waved my hands in front of me, “Let's stop talking about this.”

“Fine. Let's talk about why you have your hair up in a ponytail.”

I didn't rush on my way home from work. I was dreading the conversation I was to have at some point before the day was over. I took my time driving through the streets of Tempe. I sang along to “Babygirl” by Anthony Green, which I hadn't been able to get out of my head since it was on in the morning. “Babygirl, twist away. When you're talking to me, I can't breathe... You're the one, I know you are.” The lyrics registered in my head and I realized that I did feel that way with John. He was the one, I knew he was.

When I pulled into my parking spot in front of our apartment, I just sat there. “Miracle Sun” was keeping me company as I gained the courage to go inside. It shouldn't have been that difficult to face your fiance. “Push the thoughts to the back of your head, Sparrow. He's the one, you know this.”

As soon as I walked through the door, I noticed the other boys in my living room while my fiance was nowhere in sight. “Hey, guys.” I said uncertainly to Garrett, Trey, and Rex.

“Hey!” They all said almost in unison.

“What're you doing?” I set my purse down on the front table and walked over to them, shoes clanking loudly against the hardwood.

“We had a late lunch with John then came over to show him this thing we're working on.” Rex explained. It was then I noticed the computer sitting in front of them. That's also when John made his appearance.

“Hey.” He smiled then walked over to give me a kiss, “How are you feeling?” His hand loosely laced with mine as he expressed concern.

“I'm fine.” I smiled tightly at him.

“Good.” He smiled back, “Do you want to listen to some of the stuff Trey and Garrett have been working on?”

I looked over at my friends, but it didn't necessarily appeal to me to listen to anything, “Not right now. I'm going to go take my makeup off and change, though.” He nodded and squeezed my hand then went to the couch. I grabbed my purse and went to the bedroom.

My shoes were the first to go. Despite how comfortable they were, I needed to get out of them. My makeup came off next. I'd been getting sick of wearing so much of it as of late, so I only wore it when I worked or on special occasions.

From my bed, I could hear the boys talking and discussing something in the living room. Not long after, I heard the door open and shut, then silence. John appeared in the doorway after that. “Where'd they go?” I asked in confusion.

He shrugged, “I told them to leave so I could spend time with you.” He walked around to my side of the bed and lied down since I was on his side.

“You shouldn't have to do that.” I said and he shrugged. His arms were wrapped around my waist and his head rested on my chest. It seemed to be his favorite position.

“How was your day?” He questioned after a few moments of silence.

“It was fine. The store was slow and I had lunch with Ryder.”

“Hmm.”

After another few short silent moments, he brought up the thing I was dreading, “Are we ever going to talk about last night?” I let out a long breath, “I was really freaked out, Sparrow. I thought you were going to die.”

My fingers laced through his uneven cut hair, “So did I.” I mumbled.

John lifted his head and torso, supporting his weight on his hands, “Talk to me.”

I sat up and folded my legs underneath me. John sat up as well when he saw that I was getting serious, “Well,” I began, “I have a history with anxiety and major panic attacks.”

I watched as his brow creased, “Why didn't I know this?”

I shrugged, “I hadn't had one in years and thought I was passed it.”

“Why did you get them before?”

With a sigh, I rubbed my forehead, “It was after Erika died. I was fine at first, a little in denial, but fine. Then I started having dreams about the moment she died. I would see her body flying through the air and it laying on the road all mangled and bloody.” As I spoke, the picture came to mind. My expression screwed up in disgust and pain. Quickly, I shook my head, fighting back tears. John's hand found mine and squeezed. He was looking at me with such worry, not as worried as the night before, though, “Her death was haunting me. Soon enough, I was getting panic attacks regularly. Finally, my parents took me to a therapist after a particularly bad one that had me in the hospital at three in the morning. I was put on anxiety medication and had weekly appointments with Dr. Lawrence. I worked through my problems and eventually got off the pills.”

Once I was finished, I looked into John's eyes. He had a look the mix between worry, concern, and pity on his face, “Holy shit, Sparrow.” He said softly.

I nodded with a slight chuckle, “I know. That's why I don't really like to talk about it. I'd much rather block it out of my memory.”

He nodded and was silent before bringing his head up and looking at me again, “What happened last night?”

My mind was reeling. What do I tell him? The truth? He might take it the wrong way, though. What do I say?

My eyes search his patiently awaiting face. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I looked away, “M-my parents, I told them last night, even though you apparently asked for permission.” He smirked, “They were, I guess, overwhelming me and I kept freaking myself out.”

His brow furrowed again, “Freaking out over what?”

I guessed this was it, “Just, uh, being married.”

His jaw dropped sightly, “You had a panic attack because you were freaking out about being married?” He spoke slowly as to get it through his head.

“Now about being married to you or anything. I just – I got into my own head and my mind wouldn't stop. I don't know, I just psyched myself out.”

He leaned back to look at me better, or maybe he was offended, “You still want to... get married, right?”

I nodded eagerly, “Yes! God, yes! Like I said, I just got too far into my head. You know how I get sometimes. Think too hard about something and you get way too many crazy thoughts floating around up there.” I laughed awkwardly. John resumed his previous position, but still seemed troubled. “Hey,” I said softly, grasping his chin between my fingers and forcing him to look at me, “I love you.”

He nodded, “I know. I love you, too.”

“Good.”