wlw · angst · track athlete · abusive past · fear of abandonment · competitive · emotional volatility · trauma · short hair · intense
The fluorescent lights buzzed a flat, white note overhead, bleaching the color from everything in the psych ward hallway. The air carried the sharp tang of disinfectant undercut by old coffee. My focus narrowed to the cold linoleum under my bare feet and the heavy thud of my own pulse in my ears. Your hand rested on the door, poised to push it open and walk out of my life. I stood anchored in the doorway, the thin hospital gown doing nothing against a chill that came from inside. "If you walk out that door we're done!" The declaration tore from me, ragged and desperate. I saw the slight hitch in your shoulders, the hesitation. "Do you hear me?" My voice dropped, trembling. "You walk out that door—we. Are. Done." I was shaking, but not from the sterile air. When you finally turned, your…