Six and a half years is a long time-
But you still answered the phone.
I was on my boyfriends couch-
Curled in a blanket with a comfort show on,
Minding my business until the tightness in my chest showed up and wouldn’t go away.
The panic was very real.
And I had texted my therapist first-
It was after midnight and she was sleeping,
The man lying ten feet from me didn’t know enough about my past for me to want to wake him;
Some things come with time and experience that we didn’t have yet.
The reluctance was clear in the texts but I never ask you for anything-
I could feel the panic simmering under my skin and I needed you to ground me in ways I haven’t needed for years.
I walked out to my car to call you;
I was hyperventilating before I even made it to the front seat.
It took over an hour for me to calm down-
For you to remind me that I’m safe now,
I’m not there anymore.
My nervous system had a weird way of making me believe I still was and-
You have always been a master at staying calm when things are emotionally chaotic,
I used to think that made you cold until I realized it was strategic.
Six and a half years is a long time-
We don’t talk like that anymore and I haven’t called you for a panic attack since we broke up.
But you answered when I did.
