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Breathing is hard.
It's supposed to be second nature. You're not supposed to think about it. But there have been so many times that I've sat, panic consuming me and I've had to remind my body how to breathe. I feel like a fish having come out of water for the first time. A baby stumbling on its legs for the first time. Muscle memory does nothing to help me. I feel like I have to relearn everything all over again.
And sometimes I feel like I'm doing it wrong.
Sometimes, like now, I sit on a little bench outside a corporate building in the financial district, people in suits bustling off the streetcar that stops at the intersection to get to work, and I can't breathe. And even when I manage to get a tiny sip of air, it feels like it does nothing.
The oxygen barely hits my brain. Nothing calms me down. I feel like my body is going into panic, trying to protect me yet somehow it's also hurting me. Making my chest spasm, my throat dry and tight, my eyes feel like they're about to bulge out.
I gasp, ragged and sharp and then cough as the air hits me, doubling over in my seat on the bench, head almost between my knees. A warm breeze ruffles at my hair as I gasp in long breaths. Fuck, so that's how you breathe.
My body hurts and my chest aches as it pounds.
Calm down, fuck, just calm down.
The weight of my phone in my pocket is overwhelming. Part of me wants to immediately take it out and call the lawyers back.
What the hell are you talking about?
What do you mean Jacob KcKinnon was arrested?
Why the hell did I file that report against him? Now I'm going to have to go through everything again.
I stand, sighing and I look up, the sun blinding me.
"I can't keep doing this," I whisper to myself.
I finally do pull my phone out after I grab a coffee and sit down in a nearby dog park. I wait for Tally to pick up as it rings and her breathless voice hurriedly calls out, "Hey, hi, you're not coming home right now are you?"
"Not really the way I want you to answer the phone," I say. "Everything good?"
"Yep, no, it's great," she says and I hear her stumble over something in the background.
"Did you just fall over?" I ask incredulously. "I have like five pieces of furniture you can't have tripped."
"No, no," Tally laughs. "I didn't fall, I caught myself."
I blink and then roll my eyes, exasperated. "Anyway, is Fig okay?"
"Oh Fig's great. I'm just running around, taking care of him, you know. Endless tasks to make him happy."
