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She is having another nightmare about him. If she has recurring dreams about him, he has to be a real person then. But they aren’t dreams. They’re nightmares. Eyes still closed, Olivia’s arm reaches out to my empty spot as her breathing becomes more erratic with her crying.
“Corey,” she cries out. “Not you too. Please.” That last word is a heartbroken plea that shatters my own heart. I’m in her dreams? Her nightmares? Her hand closes in a fist over the covers before gliding up, like she’s searching for me.
I can’t stand to watch anymore. My feet move me forward until I’m back in bed with her, pulling her into my arms, and calling her name softly to wake her. She slightly frowns as her eyes blink open slowly. It deepens when I wipe away her tears.
“You had another nightmare,” I whisper, wanting desperately to ask her about it. “Do you remember it?”
She pauses, which makes me brace for either the truth or a lie. “No. Were you already awake?
“Yeah, went to get some water. When I came back, you were crying, so I woke you up.” If she’s lying, then I feel like I should keep her talking in her sleep to myself.
Olivia wraps her arms around me like I’m going to disappear into thin air. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” Her voice is so low, I almost don’t hear her. She nuzzles her face into my neck and her cheeks are cool from her tears.
“Not going anywhere,” I reply, placing a tender kiss on the top of her head.
She snuggles closer to me as the exhaustion starts settling in. I need some sleep before work tomorrow. I wait until her breathing evens out and her body relaxes until I allow myself some rest.
MY JOB DOESN’T bring me any peace. I woke up two more times during the night to Olivia crying and making those same pleas in her sleep. Each time, she told me she didn’t remember them. Each time, she said it after hesitating. I don’t like her lying to me, especially after seeing the pain in her eyes. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it, though. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. She might be comfortable pushing me, but I don’t know if I want to do that to her.
At lunch, I check my messages, hoping to have one from her.
Olivia: Can I stay with you this week?
All week? Is something wrong with her apartment again? Or does this have to do with her nightmares?
Me: Yeah.
Olivia: Thanks. :)
I guess it’s a good thing I got rid of the urge to spend time by myself.
BY THE TIME I have my next appointment with Ms. Cynthia, I’m grumpy. Olivia has had at least one nightmare every night this week that wakes me up. Sometimes, she’ll wake me up, give me freaking puppy dog eyes, and ask if I’ll play the racing game with her because she can’t sleep. It’s not like I tell her no either. I need more sleep than what I’m getting, though, and I wonder how I ever operated before when I was getting even less than I am now.
“Looking a bit rough today, Corey,” Ms. Cynthia comments as we take our respective seats.
“Rough week,” I reply.
“Well, let’s start with that. What’s been going on? Having trouble sleeping?”
I rub my eyes, fighting off the rising need for a nap. I’ve been up for a while since I had to go into work early, but Olivia woke me up three times last night. “Sort of. Olivia’s been staying with me and she’s been having some nightmares, so haven’t gotten as much sleep. Everything else is okay.”
“Good. I hope you both start getting better sleep.” She takes a slightly wheezy inhale. “How have you been feeling?”
Squeezing my eyes close to rein in my temper, I say, “I just said everything else is okay.”
“Define okay.”
“Okay as in things don’t suck, but aren’t great either. I’m in the middle and easily agitated.” I give her a pointed look, which she returns with a small smile.
“That’s because you need more sleep and you’re moody. How long has it been since you’ve hit a low? How frequent were they before?”
“Um, I don’t know. Been a couple weeks, I think.” With her last question, I realize there is a bit of a pattern. “Depends. When I was playing, it was every few months, and I’d hate everything for anywhere from a week to two months. Until January, I was in a ‘low’ for a year and have slipped a few times since, I guess. Every few weeks. I don’t think I ever truly crawl out of it, though.”
She nods and jots down notes onto her legal pad. “What are some things you have coming up in the future to look forward to?”
“I’m going to see my siblings next weekend before they go on spring break.” Ms. Cynthia waits for me to add more, so I rack my brain. “My birthday is next month.”
“What about school? I believe you were dropped this semester?”
