Antidepressants

April 16, 2013

I shoulder my duffel bag and squeeze the chlorine from my hair. Tim meets me eyes and just falls into step besides me. He pushes open the pool gate for me and we head towards the parking lot. I’ve just finished braiding my hair by the time we get to the car. I toss my duffel bag in the back and slide into the driver’s seat. He gets in on the passenger side, reaching for what might be the billionth time to change the radio station from the country station I had it on earlier. I roll my eyes.

As we are pulling out of the parking lot, Tim takes my free hand. I grin and thank the heavens that I’ve spent so much time driving single-handedly in practice for this very moment.

All of the grinning and light-heartedness evaporates the instant we pull into the CVS parking lot. I park, turn the car off. Hesitate.

Tim squeezes my hand. “It’s gonna be okay, Jess.”

We both climb out of the car and as soon as I’m close enough, he takes my hand again. I feel like his hand is the only thing keeping me from running away screaming.

The transaction is short; the pharmacist pulls my bag of pills and I slide Mom’s debit card. I don’t let go of Tim’s hand the entire time.

Back in the car, I get watery eyes and he just squeezes my hand. We’ve been through this argument so many times that he doesn’t even have to ask what is going through my head.

“Jessica Lynn.” I start at my middle name. His gaze is unshakeable. “You are not crazy. You are just handling the situation. You are being proactive and trying to solve the problem instead of letting it consume you. You are so strong.”

Good lord I need him and his quiet strength.

He leans forward to kiss me, a brief transfer of comfort and strength. Pulling away, he murmurs a quiet “I love you.”

This isn’t new, but I am overwhelmed with the sincerity in his voice, winding through my veins, setting my heart ablaze. I let out some mix of a sob and a laugh and he wipes away a stray tear.

“I love you.” He says again. “You can do this.”

Dear lord, I haven’t felt like this since—

Comparing boys to you has never gotten me anywhere. But I realize that if you were here, you would do the same thing.

I think that I feel more deeply for Tim than I am willing to admit.. especially if I’m comparing him to you and coming out with a positive result.

        I drop Tim off at his house, with another lingering kiss, and head home.