I'm disowning you first

Alex told me his decision as soon as we woke up. He wants to go to Rhode Island to see his mother.

He's apprehensive, I can tell, but I can also tell how badly he does not want that to show. He doesn't want to be treated any differently, though, and I respect that. We go about our morning as usual, like he's not about to go and visit his mother who abandoned him when he needed her the most. I try to go about as normal, anyway, but I can't help acting out small signs of support; silent ways of saying 'I've got you'.

"Stop putting salt on everything! I'm taking this away from you," I say, snatching the salt shaker from his hand before he can pour it over his eggs.

"Why? It makes things taste better," He responds around a mouthful of toast. He tries to take the salt from me but I quickly pull my hand away from his reach and raise my eyebrows at him disapprovingly.

"It gives you heart disease," I inform him.

He gives me a look as if he thinks I've gone crazy, "Baby, I go to the gym multiple times a week. I don't think I'll be having heart disease any time soon."

"I don't care. I don't want you to end up having a heart attack. Think of the medical bills," I say, putting the salt shaker down, grabbing my plate, and sitting at the small two seater table situated in the middle of the kitchen.

"It's great to know you care more about medical bills than the fact that your lover is dying or dead already," My boyfriend retorts sarcastically.

"I was kidding. I'd probably lie down and die next to you."

That look again, "With no cause?"

"Broken heart, duh. Apparently dogs can die from that," I tell him before shoving a forkful of eggs in my mouth. I've never worried about eating elegantly in front of Alex, ever. So much trust in so little time, evident for the first time when I dropped sauce onto my pants from the burger I was eating on our first date. I laughed and didn't give a shit about his judgment. Mostly because I knew there would be no judgement from him. It's the little things that paint a bigger picture. Since then, my trust has grown.

"Are you calling yourself a dog?" He asks, frowning.

"Well, apparently I am a bitch," I say, thinking back to a few days ago when I was walking out of my house when I saw Cami giving me a death glare and then mouthed 'bitch' at me. "I can see that! Put it down! The eggs have already got salt in them, why do you need more on top?"

He doesn't give in to my reprimands and sprinkles the salt onto his food, "Because I like it."

"Weirdo."

"Dramatic."

"No, I'm in love." I stand up and try to wrestle the salt shaker from him. "Give that here," I demand.

In reality, I don't care about the salt. I just want to amuse him, to help the tension that has been building in him since he laid eyes on his cousin lift a bit. To help him get his mind off his nerves just for a little, and if that means trying to wrestle a salt shaker from him, if that means I'll be able to hear that laugh ripple through his chest and into open air, a sounds that tells me he's feeling happy just for a little while, then so be it.

"It's like you're already married," Jasmin says as she trudges into the kitchen in her pyjamas, a giggle punctuating the end of her sentence. Again with the marriage talk. Alex wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses the top of my head. "Have you come to a decision yet, Alex?"

"Uh, yeah, I have. I want to go see my mom," He responds, holding me tighter to him.

Jasmin smiles, leaning over the counter, "Really?"

"Yeah, just to see what happens," He says after sucking in a breath, as if it's hard to say. I expect it is. He hasn't seen, or even spoke to, his mother in months. "Then I'm going to visit my dad," he continues. My eyes immediately widen.

I pull out of Alex's hold so I can face him. "What? You didn't tell me. When did you decide this?"

"Last night I contacted the prison he's at and they said I could go in this afternoon. I want to say some things to him."

"Are you sure?" I ask. I can't think of anything else to say. I'm sure Alex has a lot to say, though. To Mr Montgomery, I mean. If I were in Alex's shoes, I could never be brave enough to go and visit the person who abused me for most of my life. That seems scary. Terrifying, even.

"Yes," He replies.

Even if Mr Montgomery, thankfully, won't be able to physically harm Alex, I feel nervous for this too, and I can't help but ask, "Do you want me to come with you?"

Alex is quick with shaking his head and is firm when he says, "No, I don't want you anywhere near him or the place he's at. But please come with us to see my mom."

"Of course, I will," I assure him, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his shoulder.

"I need to go and wake Chloe up," He announces after a short while, kissing my head again and then pulling away from me.

"Is she coming with us?" Jasmin asks him.

"No, Sofia said she'll look after her." Alex looks at me, "I called her when you were still asleep." I nod in understanding. Sofia seems to be the only person Alex goes to when he needs someone to watch Chloe. Not that I think of it as a bad thing at all, I just don't particularly know what to think of it. Is it sweet that he trusts her, my sister, with his child?

"Shouldn't Chloe get to see her grandmother, though?She hasn't seen her in, like, how many months?" Jasmin goes on to question. Alex gives her the same 'are you mad?' look he gave me when I mentioned him getting heart disease from the salt.

"I'm not letting my daughter see my mom in these circumstances. Especially not a mom who abandoned me when I needed her most. She's not coming," He states frankly, and then walking away to go and wake up his daughter.

Jasmin just sighs, and then she's creasing her eyebrows in curiosity, looking away from me. "Alex definitely cannot draw like that. Are they your sketches?"

I find that she's looking at the fridge, "Yeah. Mine."

"It's sweet that his displays them. And you're seriously good. Are you hoping to become an artist?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

"You should. I know they're probably rough sketches, but they're so good. Your proper ones must be amazing."

"Thanks. I try."

"Keep trying. You're definitely going places."

I beam at her, the unfamiliar feeling of pride swelling at my heart, "I appreciate it."

Jasmin smiles back, mentions something about how nice it is to be back in the apartment she grew up in, her mother being the one who 'gave it' to Alex, before going off to get ready, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my thoughts.

Alex is so brave. Seeing both his parents in one day, I worry that he's not giving himself time to breathe before he goes and visits the next one or does the next thing. He never gives himself a break. He's throwing himself at the deep end and I don't want him to suffer as a consequence of that because I know how hard this is for him. I feel like he's doing it on purpose; like he thinks this is what it takes to get over everything that's happened to him, and I don't think it is.

I can't do much. It's not my choice and I know he's too stubborn to change his mind. I don't know enough about this, anyway, to butt in and make him change his mind. I'm not sure it's my place to do that. I just really hope that he won't regret this and that it won't make him take two steps backwards. There's a chance he's going to end up feeling even more alone, confirming his detachment from his parents. I don't want him to go through that.

But he doesn't have to detach himself from his mother today, I remind myself of that and I might tell Alex that if I know he needs to hear it. They can work things out. I don't know if that's me being optimistic about it, but I should be positive, I think. I don't think any negative thinking is going to help because when I think negatively, you can tell, and Alex doesn't need that. He needs support, so I'll pray that everything with his Mrs Montgomery changes for the best. Something that's good for both of them.

Once we're all ready, Jasmin drives us to my house, where Alex drops Chloe off, and then we're on our way to Rhode Island. I wish I could say that I feel calm, but I don't. At all. I'm incredibly nervous and I can't get rid of that stabbing feeling of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. It almost hurts. My palms also hurt because I'm clenching my fists.

Annoying. So annoying because it is so disruptive of everything, just like Camilla said to Alex. I lay my head back and remember what my old therapist used to say to me. Think about what's making me anxious, ask myself why it's making me anxious, list all the reasons why it shouldn't make me so anxious.

OK. I can do this.

What's making me anxious? Alex seeing his parents. Why is it making me anxious? Because I don't want him to get hurt from this. I don't want him to fall completely into a depression and for him to go through that pain all the time. I'm scared of the unknowing of what's to happen, and I don't know if that's stupid because all that's happening is that he's going to talk to his mum and dad. That's one reason why it shouldn't make me so anxious.

"You're not a bitch, by the way, baby. Cami said that, didn't she?" Alex asks me, turning in his seat where he's sat in the passenger seat next to the drivers seat. I'm sat in the back on my own.

"Mmhmm."

"I never call girls bitches out of respect but..." He trails off without saying it.

"As a woman myself, I shall say it. She's a big fat bitch," Jasmin says. We told her all about Camilla last night over dinner. I didn't realise how much I had to say about the situation until it all came spilling out of me.

"Yeah," I mutter, trying to focus on my breathing. Alex being anxious right now is understandable. Me being the anxious is almost insulting. It's not about me, I repeat in my head.

Alex frowns and reaches his hand to grab mine, "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel so good," I answer truthfully, sucking in a deep breath. He clocks that it's my anxiety straight away.

"We can turn back. I'll see my mom another day."

I shake my head, "No, it's OK. You should see her today. It's important."

"I can go see her any day," He says, his voice sweet like honey, and I can feel my face heat up with the sudden urge to cry. Tearfulness is one of my most hated symptoms of my anxiety. It's the thing that makes me feel the most weak, more so when I cry in situations where tears really aren't necessary.

Plans being halted and changed just because of my burden is what I don't want because then I'd feel guilty and like I'm depriving Alex of seeing his mother when he told himself that it would be today. He's been so nervous about it and I don't want that drag on because feeling nervous or anxious is absolutely horrible.

Alex is too caring to the point where he thinks I do want to turn back but don't say it because I don't want to ruin anything, when in reality I don't want to turn back at all because of the same reasoning. People can't see the thin difference when it comes to this and having to persuade people makes me more frustrated with myself.

I don't say anything. They're only trying to help and I do appreciate that. Alex is only trying to help.
I squeeze his hand tighter.

"I don't want to feel guilty. Like Camilla said, it ruins everything." And it does. Not only for other people, but for me too. Because I don't want to run away from the situation and miss out. I want to stay, I want to experience, but sometimes I just can't.

"Fuck what Cami says, she doesn't know anything," Alex states firmly, and I can see the annoyance in his eyes. I know he's not annoyed at me, it's at Camilla, but part of me is scared that it is at me. Annoyance at my wingeing and complaining and pessimism.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I can't ignore what she said. It's not that easy. I already tell myself that I'm a burden everyday and hearing her say it confirmed that other people think that way about me too. I know it's annoying."

"I know it's hard to ignore what she said, but she was only trying to be spiteful because she was feeling ganged up against. What she said was bullshit. Trust me when I say that you're not a burden and it would never annoy me, ever. I understand that it's uncontrollable. Please. I would never think that way, and neither does Jasmin, right?"

"I don't. I suffer with panic attacks myself sometimes. Not quite a disorder but I understand the feeling. I would happily turn the car around for you," Jasmin offers.

"Please don't, I don't want to prevent Alex from doing things. I already feel like I do that too much."

Sometimes I wish people would just tell me to grow a backbone instead of pretending to truly care. I know Alex does truly care, but I can see when others don't. The looks of irritation or judgement, the way they let out that drawn out "oh" when I tell them that I'm having a panic attack, the way they don't even acknowledge it. They don't have to help, I know not everyone can do that, but at least sit with me or be straight up and tell me to grow the fuck up.

"Can you stop the car?" Alex asks Jasmin abruptly. Jasmin does so with no questions asked, pulling the car over in front of a house, and Alex is hasty with leaving the passenger seat and getting in the back, sitting himself in the middle seat right next to me. The car starts moving again once he's buckled in.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, already feeling guilty for who knows what.

Alex kisses me on the temple and slips his hand into mine, "Stop apologising."

"Distract me, please," I ask, placing my head on his shoulder in effort to feel closer to him—my safe haven. Him being next to me is helpful. I'm not so alone in the back by myself.

He tucks a hand in the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a key. He then presents the key to me. "For you. To my apartment. It's what I went out and got yesterday. I was going to give it to you when I came back but Jasmin was there and I forgot."

"Oh." I remove my head from his shoulder and take the key from his hand. Well, this is certainly a distraction. "Oh, wow. Thank you."

"You don't have to give me a key to your house, I don't expect that. I just trust you a lot and I feel like this is, like, a next step in our relationship. I want you to always feel welcome at my apartment, even if I'm not there. If you need to get away from your house for some reason... yeah—"

"A key is perfect. Thank you." I kiss him.

"I haven't got you a key card yet but I'll do that soon. You need to be there when it's issued for security reasons."

"We'll do that tomorrow," I respond. My heart beat has slowed down to a more steadier beat as I study the key. I agree that it is good step for us.

Our relationship has moved quickly, with everything that's happened, and I've been left worrying about what the next stage is. I don't know what to expect as I've never been in a relationship before this one. We've had our first date, first kiss, we're official, I told him I love him, we've had sex, celebrated an (insignificant) anniversary, he's met my family and I've met his, he even lived with me. I can't move in with him and we're obviously not going to get married or have kids yet. I don't want our fire to burn out with nothing to celebrate together. Maybe a couples vacation, I don't know, but a key is perfect, like I said. I didn't even think of it before.

I spend longer than I intend staring at the key, thinking about us and how happy I am. The happiness I feel now is nothing I've ever felt before. It's entirely consuming and overwhelming, but it's the best feeling in the world. I think I may be getting better now. I know my anxiety won't go away but things are better now.

The adrenaline from my anxiety slowly wears off and I'm left feeling fatigued. I put the key in my pocket, snuggle into Alex, and without meaning to, I fall asleep. Alex wakes me up when we've arrived.

"Go on a walk, OK? It will make you feel better. I'll keep my phone on. If I need you, I'll text you, so keep your phone off silent," Alex tells me as we stand outside of a small, cottage-like home.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" I ask.

"I'm sure. I'll be fine, Jasmin will be with me. I'm most likely going to get quite angry and I know that conflict is one of your triggers so I don't want to make your anxiousness any worse. There's a park near by, take a walk there."

"OK," I agree. I want to be there for him, but I also know now that I'm allowed to be selfish sometimes and think of myself, so I don't argue. I take that walk. And it feels nice.

I actively try not to think of anything during this walk, letting my mind go blank, which is not so easy, but I attempt it, at least. I just listen to music through my headphone, breathe in the warm air and let the sun hit my face. I can hear the screams of laughter of children playing in the park and the faint sound of an ice cream van. Normality. It's nice.

I'm not sure how long I had been walking around the park; I must have circled it at least a couple of times, and it's not the smallest park, until I get a text from Alex to come back to the car. I go straight there, but when I get there, there's no sign of him. Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I walk up to the front door. Alex's voice is the first thing I hear.

"You shouldn't have had a kid if you were going to be disappointed when he turned out to be something you did not expect. We're not perfect. We're our own people. I can't help the fact that I am attracted to guys. It's completely out of my control, and I tried so hard for so long to change that, and it never did. I will never be able to change that. But I'm proud of who I am now, and I never want that to change. This is me, and if you can't accept that, then I won't accept you as my mother, so before you disown me for being a sinner to your God or whatever, I'm disowning you first." 

He sounds so angry. I feel a shoot of anxiety in my stomach. It aches.

The clear voice of Mrs Montgomery is next to speak, "Darling, please—"

Alex cuts her off, "No, I don't want to see you again."

"Please don't take yourself away from me. And Chloe. Won't I get to see my granddaughter?"

"Absolutely not. I don't want her anyway near you."

"Please—"

"No."

"I love you, Alex."

"No, you don't." Alex's voice is louder as he walks closer to the door. I quickly rush to stand by the car as if I was always there. When I see him exit the house, the indignation I heard in his voice is very much prevalent on his face.

I get in the car, and when Alex joins me, he pulls me against him and doesn't stop holding me the whole journey home. He doesn't say anything. Not a single work, and I don't ask. But it's clear that it didn't go well,