Panic

         “I hate it when he feels this way. I really hate it, because he seems so helpless. *short chuckle* Helpless. That’s hardly the way Justin would prefer to be described. He’s one of the least helpless people I know…when it comes to certain things. He needs a lot of coddling, a lot of babying, and a lot of love. His self-esteem can sometimes be pretty low, especially at times like now.
         He’s sitting there on the couch, curled into a semi-ball position, looking out the window, he’s worrying his lower lip between his teeth. God…All I want to do is to take him home and never let him go. I don’t know how to make things better for him, even though that’s all I want.
         I know what’s going through his head right now, because we’ve talked about it before. He asked me if I’d ever had a time when anxiety just didn’t stop, and how I’d dealt with it. I told him about the first time I’d traveled to Boston, where we met.
         I told Justin that day was the hardest in my life, the night before had been even worse. I couldn’t sleep, but I couldn’t stay awake. The next morning, I got up and almost got sick at the sight of the food Mom had prepared. I knew I couldn’t eat it, not with the butterflies and knots in my stomach. Mom tried to get me to eat…but I couldn’t get it down. The flight to Boston was terrible. Not only was I afraid of flying, but I was going there to check out the place where I would spend at least the next four years of my life, and I was terrified. The decision I made there would decide my immediate future. How did I deal with it? I slept through the flight and I was a little better when we got off the plane, but then…I didn’t deal with it. Adrenaline took over.
         Something is bothering him, and who knew what it is. This doesn’t happen with Justin very often, but I usually know what to do when it does This time it’s different. He doesn’t want me to cuddle him, doesn’t want me to try and take care of him, he just wants me to fix this, and I don’t know how. I hate this. He’s suffering in some place in his mind, and I can’t fix it.
         It’s been a little while since I started doodling and writing out my feelings, but maybe, just maybe he’ll talk to me. I should go try.

** A few hours later **

         I’m sitting with him on the couch, and his position has changed very little. He’s curled up in my lap, his head on my shoulder. He’s asleep. Maybe it will provide a temporary break from whatever it is that’s inside his head. I brush a kiss against his forehead and he opens his eyes. Sleepy, Justin’s eyes were still bright. “Hi, he whispers, sitting up, but still cuddling close.
         “Hey Justin.” I run my fingers through his hair and he smiles a little. “How are you feeling?”
          He sighed. “No better, really.” He shifted and I kissed the top of his head, ready to listen. “Why do I feel so inadequate? I can’t please anyone, definitely not myself. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I have the life that so many people want…but I’m not very happy. I can’t please myself.”