Barriers

“GET OUT!”  

His words were a shout, practically a scream. I could see the strain of his muscles as he shook. It wasn’t just his muscles; it was every fiber of his being quivering as he recoiled trying to stuff everything inside.

“No.”

It was barely over a whisper and I felt a bitter laugh escape my lips before squeezing them into a tight line. He froze for a moment, pupils dilated in a rage that matched my own, and began a hailstorm of flying objects and profanities. But I wouldn’t leave, not again, not that same goddamn cycle just so he could rip himself apart from the inside and leave me with an empty shell. I lunged at him trying to pin him down and he writhed and screamed trying to get away as if I burned his skin. I knew better than that because I could help and that was what terrified him. Digging my nails into his wrist I forced him to stay still and spoke with the softest voice I could manage.

“No.”

And then I felt him shrink, almost wilt, and his walls crumble into a little heap of old bricks. When he looked at me there wasn’t any rage just sadness, guilt and pleading. I took a deep breath and tightened my grip further.

“Just let it go. Stop tiptoeing around the past as if you can change it. It doesn’t matter anymore let it go.”  

He looked away defiantly and whimpered.

“You don’t under stand, you cant just-”

He paused letting all the air from his lungs and breathed back in. I could hear the hoarseness in his voice.

“I cant just let it go, not after everything. I cant, I cant and I’m just so afraid that everything will start to fall apart. And I cant let it go. No, not yet. Not yet.”

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him as hard as I could bear.

“Cant you see its already falling apart! Its been falling apart since you couldn’t let go and I’ve been trying so hard to keep it all together! And what for? Look at us, the last ones standing and we’re the most broken in the end.”

The last word was part sob and part hysterical laughter as my hands went limp sliding off his shoulders. He stared up at me and for the first time in a month since he’d restarted this cycle he really looked. And I knew exactly what he saw. All the nicks, cuts, and bruises from fights we never talked about. The bags under my eyes and hollows in my cheeks from not sleeping or eating. His eyes froze when he saw the gash over my right eye, knew I’d been drinking, and he started to shake. I crawled off of his chest and sat next to him as he curled into a tight ball. Clutching the cuff of my pants he sobbed, his body wracked by a thousand sorries. I ran my hand through his hair telling him it would be alright. We stayed there long after his sobbing receded and voice gave out surrounded by so many broken things. This was enough and it would have to be. He would get over the past and I would forgive him because I had to and he needed me to. And I was fine with that, it was all fine, and we would be ok no matter what.