I inhale sharply. “I don’t think it’s one ofmytriggers but I’m definitely sensitive to noise when I’m having an attack or a bad day with lots of symptoms.”
“It must be very unnerving never really knowing if you’re going to get an attack or not.”
I shrug my shoulders at that. “But anybody could get sick any day of the week.”
Charlie nods thoughtfully. “I guess so, but still, it’s different when you know you're prone to a certain kind of episode, one that is really unpleasant.”
Normally, I like it when people are forthcoming with their attempts to understand just how daunting it can be having the threat of a migraine attack hanging over me, but for some reason, Charlie’s sympathy is annoying me. Because he doesn’t know what it’s like. He doesn’t know how I can rarely relax for more than a few hours, sometimes just minutes, until I am reminded by something that I could have a flare at any minute. He doesn’t know what it’s like to freeze when you feel a slight twinge behind your eye or when a bright light comes out of nowhere, and I have to wait, to see if I can adjust and move on, or if I’m descending into a painful hurricane of torture. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have to race home because you only have limited time before you start vomiting or getting cold sweats. He doesn’t know what it’s like to plunge yourself into literal darkness – no lights, no noise, no phone, no music, nothing for hours and hours, sometimes days – just to try and alleviate some of the worst discomfort.
And I don’t want to tell him about it. I don’t want his pity. And I definitely don’t want him being even kinder to me than he already has. I’ve scarcely recovered from him washing my hair and like I said, my heart is only barely behaving.
“Sometimes it helps if Idon’ttalk about it,” I say, firmly.
“Right.” Charlie’s expression falters. “That makes sense. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, just as brusquely. “But let’s just talk about something else.”
“Sure. Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you. I was curious… Why did you and Hannah split up?”
Jesus. I’m trying to avoid stress and a migraine attack, not dive into both head first. But I know I’ve already been tetchy enough with Charlie. And maybe I need to talk about this to remind myself how far past Hannah I’ve already come, and to remind myself why dating anybody, very much including Charlie, is a bad idea.
“Haven’t I already said? We just weren’t compatible.”
“Yeah, but in what way? With Markus and me, we were very compatible. Too compatible, perhaps. Like we were too similar and it was just so easy being together. Too easy. We didn’t challenge each other, never argued or had difficult conversations, and now I look back on it and I can see how limiting and frankly, unsatisfying that was.”
I consider his words and find they help me find my own explanation.
“Hannah and I were too similar as well, but in a way that meant we challenged each other too much. We’re both control freaks and wanted things our own individual way. We argued constantly. At first, I found it all so hot. Like, we lit a fire in each other and that translated to the bedroom effortlessly.” I look up and see Charlie blushing but his expression is otherwise indecipherable. “But we also knew how to throw more and more lighter fuel on the flames so sometimes we never really resolved the conflict, never had much peace.”
“Sounds passionate,” Charlie says in a small voice. “But exhausting.”
“It was,” I agree. “But it wasn’t good for me. The first three months after we moved in together, I had more attacks than I had in years. Maybe you remember there was like a couple of weeks where I wasn’t in work very much?” Charlie shakes his head and I’m not surprised. Until the last few weeks, I wouldn’t have taken much notice of his movements either. “I told HR it was a bad case of e-coli and they believed me because I lost so much weight and came back to work looking so rough.”
“What happened with Hannah? Did the attacks just stop?”
“Migraine attacks,” I correct him. It’s important he knows I live with migraine disease every day of my life, not just when I’m having an attack. He nods in acknowledgement at the correction and I’m pleased that’s all it takes, so I continue. “No, we did actually stop arguing as much once I told her it could be causing them, but ironically that was also when I started to feel her pull away. She spent more time away from home either training, working or out with her friends. I wasn’t much better. I worked late most nights, trying to make up for the time I was off.”
“You shouldn’t have needed to do that,” Charlie says in a quiet voice.
“Maybe, but that’s just the way it is,” I tell him levelly. “Anyway, we went on like this for months and months, and I told myself it would get better but I also didn’t do much to improve things myself. And then, out of nowhere, Hannah just disappeared one weekend. Texted me saying she was going out after work on Friday night and I didn’t see or hear from her until Sunday afternoon. And that felt like the last straw for me. I didn’t want to be that person sat at home waiting for her girlfriend to come home or text or call. It made me realise, it wasn’t ever going to work and I couldn’t cope being just roommates so when she got home we talked – actually talked, no fighting – for the first time in our whole sorry relationship and I said I wanted to split up. She immediately agreed.”
“Well, I’m glad you had that at least. It doesn’t always count for much, but a civilised ending to a relationship can help. I’m grateful Markus and I had that.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“My parents didnothave that. I was very young when they split up, just four, but I still have some memories of the fighting, of the snapping and of my mum’s body always being so tense and on edge.”
“Really?” I ask, intrigued. “That’s sad.”
“Yeah, I think they were two control freaks that couldn’t figure things out. I mean, I don’t know much about my dad. He stopped making an effort to see us a few years after the divorce and the last I heard he’s living in Canada somewhere, but you’ve met my mother. It’s fair to say she’s not easy to live with if you want to do things a different way to her preferred method. She’s been single ever since and I think it’s the best thing for her. Like, honestly, I don’t even think she misses having a partner. She’s happy. Annoying as hell, but very happy.”
“I can relate to that,” I say quickly and easily.
“You can?” Charlie’s eyebrows climb high on his face.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s like at work. I’m a control freak too and certainly not most people’s cup of tea. It makes me think that I’m probably just too much for most people. Too controlling. Too bossy… Too much. So maybe I’m like your mother and I’d be better off staying single. Single and happy.”
“Mina, you are nothing like my mother,” he says resolutely.
