Recluse

I hate when I feel like this.

They say that alone time is good for your mind and body, but I'm not sure if completely isolating yourself even for a bit is healthy.

I'm not sad or upset, I just want space.

I just want to lay on the floor for a few minutes just doing nothing, but breathe, either in silence or with something playing in the background--be it a movie or music.

The worse thing about this feeling is the sympathetic hazel eyes of my best friend.

Why does she feel sorry for me? She knows that I get in these moments without warning or reason.

I want to tell her that I'm fine and simply need some time alone, but as I try to will my lips to move, they won't. I don't feel like talking, just want to be left alone.

"Jordan, are you okay?"

"Brooke, I'm fine. Now leave me alone," I said mentally, but my mouth wouldn't move, so I just nodded.

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry." I just shook my head.

"Have you taken your meds?"

I shook my head again.

It wasn't long before I heard shuffling in the kitchen. A couple of glass clinks, a cabinet closing, the water faucet turning on and off, and the shaking of a pill bottle.

Pretty soon, my vision of the ceiling was obscured by blonde hair followed by Brooke nudging my shoulder with the toe of her red pump. "Sit up."

Sighing, I rise up from my position on the floor, and I took the grey and white pill and the glass of water Brooke was offering. I threw my head back to allow the pill into my mouth, before taking a swig of water. Once the pill was swallowed, I handed Brooke back the water and resumed my place with my back to the hardwood floor.

"I know you hate taking them, but they will help you feel better."

"Whatever." I only nodded in response.

"Storm or Amy?" She asked, wondering which one of my pillars of strength I want to keep me company this time.

"Surprise me." I shrugged and continued staring at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, I felt a pair of headphones slipping over my ears with the sounds of Haunted by Evanescence beginning to play.

As the song was playing, I saw Brooke's lips move, but the music prevented me from hearing her words. Not that I needed to hear her because I already knew what she was saying.

"I'll come by later to check on you," she would always say right before leaving me in solitude.

Sometimes I'm still the same when she comes back, most times I've snapped out of it by then.

Even though I resent Brooke for treating me like a child, I'm always grateful that she knows what I need in those moments.

I don't think most people will ever understand why or how these things happen, not even I understand why I get in these moods, but it's great to have at least one friend to know what I need.

To my other friends, I'm never quite sure what to tell them, except that I'm okay. Not the usual "okay" brush off that I use to get them off my back.

Just okay.