A DeadMan's Tale

16: Where Has the Time Gone

"So, what you're saying is that you don't feel like you used to? Like you did, say, a year ago?"

"Well,... yeah. Nothing makes me as happy as it used to. I mean my friends make me smile and laugh but it's only a surface happiness. In the moment I feel good, happy even, but as soon as that moment is over, or once I'm alone, the feeling comes back."

"And what feeling is that? Can you describe it for me?"

"Is this just you doing your shrink thing to 'get a deeper understanding of my mind'?"

"No," a small chuckle following. "I am asking because everyone experiences emotions differently. I need you to describe it for me because you might say 'mad' but when you describe what you mean to me, I might understand it as what I would call 'sad'. So, I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

"Fine."

"So, will you please describe what you mean by "the feeling" that comes back when you are alone?"

Peter looked out the window to his left. The sun was shinning down on a busy New York city. He had had to take the subway to get here, a cramped and awful place for someone who has hypersensitivity. Loud noises and strong smells all contained in a 50x9ft prison sucked, especially on hot days. He forced his mind back to the small room with two chairs facing another one on the opposite side of the room.

"I don't know... it's hard to describe," he paused, trying to gather his words, and took a deep breath. "I guess it's like a weight that never leaves the pit of your stomach. It travels. When you sit still, you can feel it, heavy in your legs, and it's in your eyes too. It creates a pressure behind them, like tears threatening to break free even through they aren't there."

"How do you know?"

This pulled Peter's wandering mind back to the present. "Huh?"

"How do you know the tears aren't there? Crying helps me feel better sometimes."

"I've tried. God, I've tried. Crying used to make me feel better too." He started to bounce his leg, anxiety forcing him into motion. "Crying, when I felt like I was drowning in my own emotions, was like coming up for air. It cleared my head and let me breathe. Now, the tears don't come. I'll lay on my bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling, willing myself to take that breath of air, break the surface tension, and just breathe. Instead, I lay there and feel my lungs beg for a new gasp of oxygen that will never come."

There was silence in the room. The curtains had been pulled all the way back to the ends of the large window that took up most of the wall. It was stuffy, but not the dusty kind of stuffy. The kind that smelled of old books resting in the sun and warm coffee. It opposed the storm cloud that followed Peter around. However, books can't stand up to rain.

"Is that feeling, the drowning one, the one that lurks after a happy moment?"

"No, I don't think so. I think the heavy feeling is the one that is always with me. The drowning feeling comes at the end of the day usually, when I am alone with my thoughts."

Silence hung in the air while notes were jotted down. He closed his eyes and let the hypersensitive hearing reclaim him in the absence of conversation. The air conditioning unit was running. It added a soft hum of white noise into the background of the small room. He could hear people in the rooms surrounding this one speaking to each other, hushed by the walls between. Even all the way up on this floor, the New York traffic made itself known. Silence was never actually quiet, and when it was, the hum of a heart pumping blood or lungs filling with air usually occupied the space.

"Alright, I think..." but he didn't catch whatever she continued saying to him. This happened frequently now. One minute he'd be engaged in something, watching a show or listening to someone speak, and the next he'd have a whole chunk of time missing that he couldn't account for. The next thing his mind was present for would be completely different. In this case, he went from sitting in the small office, talking to his therapist to sitting in a hot and overcrowded subway car. Honestly, he didn't even know where it was headed.

This is why he took the subway. He couldn't trust himself to be in the suit anymore or even to use the abilities. He was losing himself and Spider-man was disappearing with him.