Relief

There is nothing like relief. Flooding into you, cooling your bones.

Sitting in the counselor's office, sobbing, I spilled out how I was afraid that Melissa was going to kill herself. Fear. Grief. I felt in that moment that I had already lost her.

Sitting in class, trying to write the thesis for my paper, I felt arms wrap around me from behind. Warm, suffocating.

“I’m okay,” Melissa whispers. “Don’t worry.” Confusion. Anxiety. She’s lying, she’s lying, she’s lying. “I’m not gonna do anything.”

“I love you.” was all I could say. Surely the whole class was staring. Melissa wasn’t even supposed to be in this room.

She whispers back, “I love you too.” Damn it, tears. One slides down my face. Don’t cry. You should be comforting her, not the other way around. “I could never leave you. You’d follow me to hell.”

I look up, she’s smiling, and I myself choke on a laugh, reaching out to clasp her hand. “Of course.” Tentative hope.

She moves to take her hand away, but instinctively I hold on tight. Fear. Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. Melissa folds her warm fingers around mine. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She leaves, and the heat leaves my body as I wipe the tears from my face. I am left wonderfully, blissfully cold. It’s going to be okay. I saved her. Pulled her out of the water.

There is nothing like relief.