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He squeezes my hand, his voice desperate as he says, "Rissie, you need to back up a bit so I can open the door, okay? You can do it, just scooch back a little, just a little, okay?"
I don't want to. I don't want to do anything.
But I do it, for him.
I slide back, each inch feeling as a marathon. The door pushes up against me, and his arm slides all the way through.
"A little more, Clarissa, almost there."
One more marathon, and I slump on the floor, still gasping.
His whole body pushes through and he drops to the floor, lying down on his side next to me, eyes wild with fear.
"What's wrong? What's happening?"
I just stare back at him, fear matching fear. When the panic comes, it feels like it will never go away. And all I can think about is how this will either be the way I live for the rest of my life, or that this is how I'm going to die. Gasping for breath, heartbeats racing to an early end.
"Oh my god, Clarissa. Breathe. God, please breathe."
He moves so that he's behind me, and gathers me back against him, his chest warm, strong against my back.
"Oh darling, can you tell me what's happening?
"Pan...ic... a...ttack..." I gasp.
His chest rumbles with understand, and he squeezes me tighter. "Okay, Rissie. You're okay, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere, you just concentrate on breathing, okay? Just slow... slow down, one breath at a time. One breath... at a time."
I stop moving, stop fighting altogether, try to disengage my brain and choose to trust my body to do what it needs to do. Finally, my mouth falls open and my diaphragm contracts, dragging air into my lungs.
My entire chest inflates, and my back pushes back against Matthias. He doesn't move, an unmovable wall behind me, bringing me strength.
"That's my girl, one more," he whispers, gently stroking the hair out of my face.
I take another breath.
And another.
Each one is a little easier than the one before it.
"You're okay, I'm here. You're okay. Just breathe," he whispers, over and over and over, rubbing his hands all over my body while trying to make the oxygenated blood pump around my body again.
Somehow, it works, and after about twenty minutes I feel human in my own skin again.
Finally, I pull away, sitting up and take one long, satisfying deep breath.
Matthias gently touches my arms and guides me back against him. "You, okay?"
This time it's a question. Now that he's no longer having to reassure me, now he's reassuring himself.
I nod in answer.
"You want to tell me what happened?"
I wait a few seconds to answer, knowing he deserves to know.
My shoulders lift once and fall. "I had a panic attack. I get them sometimes." White lie. I get themallthe time.
His head tucks itself into the crook of my neck, his breath against me, warm, comforting. "What caused it?"
