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“It’s the idea that pain and grief never really disappears. It just gets triggered less. Imagine you have a box, and inside that box, there’s a button. That button represents your pain. Now, there’s also a giant ball inside that box, and at first, that ball is so big that the button gets pushed all the time.” When he looks up at me, his bangs fall into his eyes. “Over time, the ball gets smaller, and that means the button doesn’t get pushed as often. But when the button does get pushed, it hurts just as bad.”
“So, what you’re trying to tell me is that it never gets easier?”
He shakes his head. “It does. Even though sometimes it still hurts, you eventually get to a point where you can start filling the box with memories of them that make you happy instead of ones that trigger you and make you sad.”
“How long did it take for you to feel that way?”
“Here’s the thing: when you’re at your worst, you don’t want to ask for help, and when you’re at your best you won’t think you need it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He tilts his head to the side, gaze dancing across my face. “It means asking for help is the hardest thing you’ll do, but it’ll make a world of difference. You aren’t alone. Once you realize that, it’ll get easier.”
“I’d rather eat staples than talk to someone about how I feel.” I sink into my chair, stuffing my face with a handful of popcorn.
He leans back into his chair, mirroring me. “You’re talking to me.”
I choke on the popcorn. He’s right. I am talking to him. It’s like he casts a spell on me every time he’s around, and I start spilling my guts.
He hands me my soda. “Drink this.”
I take a sip and regain my composure after hitting my chest with a closed fist. “Sorry, I—oh look, the movie’s starting.”
The lights fade, making the large screen even brighter. I’m unbelievably grateful for the interruption.
He laughs a little, biting his lip to try and mask it as he looks toward the screen. “I’m starting to think you don’t mind me,” he whispers.
“Oh really?”
He grins. “I’d go as far as to say we’re friends.”
I shrug. “Well, I don’tdislikeyou.”
He clicks his tongue with a sigh. “You have such a way with words. Really touching. I might actually tear up.”
I roll my eyes. “Never mind. I take it back. I don’t like you.”
“Nope. You already put that positive energy into the universe. You can’t take it back now.”
I give him a side eye. “Says who?”
“Me.”
“And since when do you make the rules?”
“Since I got you to sign a contract agreeing to my rules.”
“Which you tore up.”
“Taped it. Besides, we're on another date.” He shrugs. “So I guess we don’t need it after all.”
“This isn’t a date.”
He smirks.
“It’s not.”
“Okay, if you say so.” He takes a sip of his soda.
