The Day I Felt Alive

8

Hailee

I looked back at Arlene, she's the famous secret artist behind all those paintings? She's the one behind the huge controversy? so much talk about an artist starting a depression movement in the artist world. Who would have thought that this artist works a normal job, not showing any signs of being more than what she is? She's an inspiration to many other artists, how could she hide her face from the world?

"Because depression doesn't have a face." She must have read my face because she answered that so perfectly. This woman just blew my mind.

She walked up to a room, I followed right behind. She sat on the bed she looked sad, her eyes were not her usual self. I felt bad, not knowing how to help, what to do? how to see those beautiful gray eyes sparkle with life.

Annie came behind me and into the room, she gave Arlene her medication.

"Thank you." she took the first set of pills, "I guess these will make me drowsy and you must be tired," she looked at me, "I will be fine."

I took a step closer to her, I wanted to hold her, take her in my arms and tell her she would be ok.

"Will Annie be here with you tomorrow?"

She laid in her bed, "no she comes every other week just to help me keep my house clean. I live alone."

"I can stay with you." I took a step closer to her bed, I was in arms reach, just one step closer and I could grab her and hold her.

Her sad eyes looked back at me, "I have a lot to sort out with my agent, with my life. I won't have you to help me for the next few months. I need to start doing things alone." her voice changed in the end, as an affirmation she didn't need me.

"But I can help now." my stubbornness insisted on me staying.

Her facial expression no longer holds emotions, "I will be fine, please leave."

I sat on the side of the bed, her face was serious, she just looked at me. Her broken arm was across her chess. She had taken off the arm sling, "Fine." she looked across the room, "in the closet," she pointed to the double doors, "I have extra pillows at the top, can you please get me two, or three, I will need to keep this elevated."

I slowly got out of bed and went to the closet, opening the doors everything came into view. The closet was filled with clothes, on one side it was the nice dresses, all different types of suits, the back was the shoes, heels, all types of dress shoes. The other side was her clothes I see her in at work, her ripped shoes, her tide-dye shirts, her closet was pretty big, I had to walk to the back corner to get the pillows.

She got up, "Ok, soo hmm." She looked around, "you will have to help me get undressed." I just stare at her and she slowly raised her hand, "I can't even take off my shirt right now. I won't be able to untie my bra or other things." she motioned towards her jeans and shoes.

"Right, right." embarrassed I went towards her but instead she moved around me and towards a dresser, she dug through some clothes.

"Hmm, well this is the only shirt big enough for my crippled self." She made a face, "but it will do," she handed me some clothes, "my room can get pretty cold, these are warm pj's and I can get pretty warm myself if you need me to hug you... or not."

I nodded, there was just tension in this room.

We tried our best to move around the broken hand, but at every movement, her hand would hurt and she would flinch. When I first took off her bra and I got a good look at her back, her long hair falling over her shoulder covering a tremendous tattoo art piece, her skin so smooth, I wanted to stoke it and run my fingers down her tattoo. I must have been red with nervousness because Arlene laughed at me when she turned my way, she was completely naked, her hair was covering her chest. Perky round chest just staring at me, I was frozen.

"Help me get the shirt through the arm and I think I can get dressed after that."

All I could do was nod and help her with the shirt, I adjust it a little and she thank me and walked around me to get the sweat pants and she walked through another set of doors.

I was nervous, I've seen breasts before, I've touched them before. I was just nervous because it was her?

She came out of the doors, "you can change in the restroom, and don't worry I don't bite unless you want me to." She gave me a smirk, she was enjoying my nervousness.

When I came out she was under the covers, this time she was on the other side of the bed, "so you don't hurt me in your sleep, you can sleep on that side of the bed." she gave me a half-smile.

I smiled, at least she was not kicking me out to the guest room or the couch, I walked to the bed. "How come I've never seen you in a suit or dress?" I placed the pillows by her side and she slowly placed her hand.

"Because you haven't asked me on a date," she laid her head back, with eyes closed she continued, "since you are still in the closet."

I turned to look at her quickly. Did she really just say that? does that mean she remembers what had happened in the hospital? were the drugs working again?

"Don't worry," her voice was a little harsh, cold even. "The pills haven't kicked in yet. But I am getting sleepy, the pills soon will start working, my hand is hurting."

"You know," I got on the bed and scooted over enough to be close to her, she was right I could feel her warmth. I looked at her, sat up to face her, "I was in love once, she was beautiful," I looked down at my hands, "sweet, carrying, loving towards people, animals, she was a cheerful little thing." I looked up, she was listening, "but when the show ended, so did our love, we didn't want the same things and we had to part ways." I kept fidgeting with my fingers unable to look up at her, "she decided to break it off, said we were different people and needed to find each other, maybe in the process we would find our soulmates. She was into soulmates and fate, and things happen for a reason. But at that time, my heart was broken, I just wanted my heart to stop hurting, the pain in my chest to stop, my empty bed to not be empty again, to feel whole again. Instead of drowning in my pain I decided to use all my hurt and put it into music."

I finally looked up at her, she was looking at me, her eyes were still pretty plain, her lips in a harsh line, serious.

"I have the ability to shut my feelings out," she said, "I have the ability to forget about my love for someone, and I blame myself for training my brain to do such a vial thing at such young age. But my last love taught me how to love again, how to be human again, but that came with the feeling of that painful heartbreak all over again, like feeling it for the first time. I've had my share of broken hearts, but that didn't stop me from coming out of the closet. The world knows that 'White shadow' is a woman, and her paintings come from her lover who suffered from depression. My painting is based solemnly on her, that's her piece." She took a deep breath, "only because my paintings don't have a face to tie them to, does not mean they still can't judge me. Someone out there will still judge you, why do you let the world shut you out from loving yourself? what do they have over you that you can't be happy openly? You don't owe them anything, the world doesn't owe you anything. You owe yourself to be happy in this cruel world."

I was going to reply to her but my phone rang at that minute, I looked up at her, she motioned for me to answer. It was work calling.

After I answer the call in the hallway, I walked back to the room and Arlene had fallen asleep. I took in her words, what does the world have over me? why be scared to come out? I've been in lesbian shows, I'm sure they've seen it coming, right? matter of time for me to let the world know I love women? matter fact, I'm starting to like one again after so long. Am I ready for all of this again?

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Side note;

If interested in poems and trying to deal with depression, know that you are NOT alone.

@Jennayy04

"Depression, Anxiety and all in between."

My girl Jenny is starting a poem section about her struggles with depression, know that she understands first hand how hard it is.