Still With You | BTS (Bangtan Sonyeondan) : A Sequel to 'Euphoria'

"Can You Please, Help Me Forget?..."

Listen To: 'Moonchild' by RM
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12 weeks doesn't seem like that long. In retrospect, 3 months is only 25% of the year. But when you have 7 boyfriends, a crazy busy job, move into a new house and trying to deal with some mental health issues from being stalked and taken hostage by your ex boyfriend and one of your current boyfriend's obsessive ex-fling , 12 weeks goes by in the blink of an eye. I feel the sweat drip down the sides of my face and the burning in my lungs; but it feels good, the pain makes me feel alive.

"Eleanor?" I hear him call out to me; but I'm too far away too lost, too deep in it. I keep going, pushing myself further and further until it becomes physically impossible for me to go any harder; I'm gasping for air and my arms and legs feel like they're going to give out. "El, stop!" He shouts at me again. I snap out of it and see Tommy standing there, completely shocked at me. He brings the paddles down and takes them off his hands.

"Shit. Sorry Tommy," I say in between heaving for air.

"Your strength and speed have improved, El-Ah.  You're landing close to 90% of your punches. Seriously Eleanor, you've only been doing this for 3 months, your progress is really great. Are you and Jungkook training at home?" He asks.

I smile at him. Tommy is JK and I's boxing trainer. Jungkook has been with him for over a year but after everything happened, I decided I needed to do something to educate myself in self defense and I also needed a physical activity to get out my anger and rage. After watching Jungkook for so many months, it was obviously to me that boxing was going to be the way to go. So, he got me to start with Tommy and I've been training with him for the last 3 months. It's been super difficult but I really feel like it's helping. Tommy knows that Jungkook is my boyfriend and we live together (Although he doesn't know about my relationship with the others) so it's nice to be able to speak freely to him about things like this.

"Yeah, we try and spar together at least 4 or 5 times a week," I answer him breathlessly as I bring my water bottle up and squeeze the cold liquid onto my sweaty face.

"You're both perfect for each other, you know that, right? You're both beasts when it comes to training and you both need to learn to relax a little bit. Good session today. Remember, work on that shifting and as soon as you're nailed that, you'll be golden," he tells me as he holds his knuckle out to me and I hit it. He turns around grabs his bags and says good bye. I'm left alone in the gym.

One of the wild requests we asked for when we bought our house was we needed a gym so when we saw this space, we knew we could make it into our dream gym. It's massive and lined with mirrors down one whole wall. Pilates machines, treadmills, ellipticals, free weights, and tons of other equipment fit in the room perfectly. It has become a sanctuary for me. A place I can come to where I can let out all of my frustrations, and believe me, I'm fucking frustrated.

They say it takes time to heal after a traumatizing experience and 'they' were right. I haven't felt like myself since that day; it changed who I was fundamentally. Emotionally there's been so much to deal with and every day is a new day but in the beginning, the fear I felt in just being touched, would throw me into a full blow anxiety attack. I know that they'd never do anything to hurt me but for a while, the only thing I could think of was him; his hands on my body, his kiss on my lips. I just couldn't shake the feeling. My therapist said it would pass and I shouldn't rush it, just take it daily. I patiently waited; hoping the day would come where the negative association would just stop and I would open my eyes and see how fucking lucky I am to be in a relationship with the 7 most incredible humans on the planet. And then one day, it happened.