Thinking back, Remy could recall countless examples of times when she’d replayed the events of the past in her mind. As she sat on the couch next to Allison and thought about her most recent search through her memories, though, there was no comparison to be made between that example and any other. There were some similarities, namely the sense of emotional exhaustion that came with trying so hard to feel something productive that it left her too drained to feel much of anything at all. This time, however, was unmistakably entirely removed from any other.
She was exhausted, but oddly content in spite of feeling the ache from the ragged edges of reopened wounds. There was an unusual sense of relief, as if her body was still aching from bearing a burden but feeling lighter just after having dropped it from her shoulders. It made her wonder if what she was feeling was anything like the relief described by people who were able to cry. Normally, the pain that began the moment was still there, just in a different form and pushed down to where its muted enough to be able to carry on in spite of it. This time, however, there was the feeling that something had been accomplished beyond simply kicking the can down the road. Being able to celebrate the absence of pain rather than not being able to be entirely relieved by once again delaying its worst effects was an entirely new experience, and it didn’t take long for the reason behind that fact to make itself apparent.
“Aaaaaaah…”
Remy smiled and parted her lips as Allison brought a fork to them, heavy with something she only recognized as more salmon once she tasted it. Truthfully, she didn’t care what it was; there was no doubt that it was going to be better than any other example of it that she’d ever tasted, and that would only be her second favorite thing about it. Looking at the food objectively, its quality put it among the best in its class. There was no questioning that it was the work of a professional. That Allison cared enough to go through so much to present it to her, however, very nearly made all of its other qualities lose their significance purely by comparison. As much as Remy had tried to deny it even as the evening began, there was no questioning that none of Allison’s efforts were about presenting her work.
There was no doubt that this was the reason for the sense of satisfaction that Remy was experiencing in thinking about the past. To have someone listen with genuine concern was as foreign a concept to her as finding relief in speaking, and it was every bit as refreshing a change. She always assumed that if she ever experienced such a thing, there would be a definitive moment that she could logically deduce was the reason for the change in how she was feeling, some grand breakthrough that came as the result of a great revelation or other significant development. As Remy thought back over the conversation, she couldn’t think of a single moment that stood out against the rest. Aside from requests for added context, there weren’t even any noteworthy questions that Allison had asked. In outright defiance of Remy’s expectations, she felt better just from talking to someone who cared enough to hear what she had to say.
“What are you thinking about?”
Remy was violently torn from her musing by Allison’s voice, her last vague thought about how much the sound comforted her even as it left her feeling disoriented. Her mind raced to construct a summary of everything she’d been thinking over the last several minutes of silence and, when none occurred to her that didn’t sound too awkward or otherwise embarrassing to be allowed, reflex pushed a default response out of her mouth.
“Nothing.”
Holding her breath, Remy cautiously glanced at Allison without turning toward her. As she’d expected, Allison was simply staring at her with an irritated expression. Remy froze in place like a deer that realizes it’s being stalked, fearful that the slightest motion might reveal it. A gentle huffing was as terrifying as a wolf’s growl, and the soft but annoyed groan that followed was as good as a pounce. Knowing that she was defeated, Remy sighed and finally turned toward Allison. As she was again organizing her thoughts, her thoughts were derailed by a desperate attempt to stifle a laugh. Allison was staring at her sternly with her lips firmly fixed in a frustrated pout, causing Remy to briefly but completely forget all else as she indulged in the sight. Struggling on her first attempt to contain her laughter and failing utterly at her second, she turned Allison’s pout into a full scowl.
“What?”
For a moment, all Remy could do was pull Allison closer to her as she struggled to control herself. The laughter nearly renewed its strength when, despite another loud huff from Allison, she eagerly threw herself into Remy’s arms. “Even when you’re mad…”
Allison did her best to grumble in response, but some of the effect was lost when the sound was muffled by Remy’s chest. “Don’t you dare call me cute.”
“Fine, fine…if you insist.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
There was a long pause before Allison responded again, the effort she was putting into sounding irritated becoming increasingly obvious. “You’re thinking it, aren’t you?”
Remy gave another brief chuckle that she silenced as quickly as she could manage. “More often than not.”
With an exasperated sigh, Allison huffed and buried her face in Remy’s chest again. There was another long pause as they both seemed to be pretending that they didn’t notice Allison’s body trembling with silent laughter. When she lifted her head again, she appeared to have abandoned her irritation.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“I give up. Staying mad at you is impossible.”
She took a moment to bring her lips to Remy’s, the kiss nearly interrupted by more silent laughter from both of them. When she pulled away, Allison’s expression was already taking a turn away from amusement and toward concern.
“So…what were you thinking about?”
Having nearly forgotten about it already, it took Remy a moment to trace her thoughts back to the moment she’d been avoiding. After taking some time to collect her thoughts, she again worried about how it would sound. When she looked down at Allison and the sparkling aquamarine eyes filled with curiosity that were looking back up at her, however, it didn’t take Remy long to put the concern aside. She couldn’t say exactly why, but something about the sight inspired the confidence she needed to speak.
It’s okay…it’s okay. I’m safe with her. “I was just thinking about…well…everything I just said. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that much about myself before.”
The look of concern on Allison’s face intensified, and the time it took her to speak again gave the impression that she was exerting considerable effort in keeping the tone of her voice even. “Do…you regret it?”
Remy nearly gave another knee-jerk response, but a moment’s thought about it halted the words before they could escape her. “For once, no. It’s strange…I guess because it’s never happened before.”
“What hasn’t?”
“I talked about myself to someone and I don’t regret it.”
“Didn’t you want to talk about yourself, though?”
Remy thought for a moment and was surprised to remember that the entire conversation had only happened by her request. “Well, yes, but…I didn’t expect this. It’s never gone this well before.”
Allison still seemed to be attempting to keep her responses carefully controlled, but the look of relief that replaced the worry that was creasing her face was unmistakable. “How so?”
“You…actually listened. Usually, anything I say that sounds like a problem ends up getting brushed aside as an annoyance, or whoever is listening tries to rush through it like they feel too guilty to just change the subject or something. The worst is when I end up talking to someone who’s convinced that they understand my situation better than I do somehow. I mean, I’ve been me for 26 years, but somehow that ends up counting for nothing compared to someone else’s assumptions. If it sounds vaguely familiar, then it must be the exact same as what they’ve experienced. If it doesn’t sound familiar at all, then it must not be important. They tell you what you’re thinking and never consider the possibility that they might be wrong…but that’s most people, I guess. They don’t have conversations; they just sit there and wait for their turn to talk. If you’re lucky, anyway.”
The relief on Allison’s face slowly took a turn toward sadness. “That…sounds depressing.”
Remy sighed as she looked away. “It’s why I don’t talk. It never seems like there’s much of a point.” She turned back to Allison and her mood was lifted by the sight in an instant, the dark cloud that was beginning to gather over her head pierced and scattered by rays of sunlight. “You didn’t do any of that, though. When I talked, you listened…actually listened. When you didn’t know, you asked. It was like…you actually cared.”
Allison’s expression suddenly turned serious. “I do actually care.”
With a smile, Remy took Allison in her arms again. “I know, I know…I’m just not used to it, that’s all. I guess that’s why I actually feel better for talking about things for once instead of worse. That’s what I was thinking about.”
There was another muffled sound from Allison as she pressed herself into Remy’s embrace. She had no way of being entirely sure, but Remy couldn’t help thinking that it sounded like a contented sigh. When she pulled back to look up at Remy again, she certainly seemed to be at peace. “As long as you know. I…I want you to be able to feel like you can trust me with things like this. I know that this kind of a promise doesn’t mean much on its own without action to back it up, but…you can count on me.”
Remy lifted her fingertips to Allison’s face and delicately brushed her cheek, at a loss for the words to express the feelings that were swirling inside of her in that moment. Her heart felt as if it was swelling to the point of bursting, unable to contain whatever was building within it. She could only stare into Allison’s eyes as she grew accustomed to the sensation in spite of not being able to make any sense of it, a vague thought somewhere in the back of her mind hoping that this was normal. It was new and terrifying, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be worth getting used to it.
“Actually…I think I’ve seen that action already. It seemed like…well, there were times where I got the feeling that you understood, at least a little. That went a long way with me.”
Allison looked surprised by the sentiment, and appeared to be concentrating before recognition became apparent on her face. “Not exactly. We’ve lived pretty different lives, I think, but there were some things that were starting to sound familiar.” She continued to look as if she was thinking before her expression suddenly turned strangely apologetic. “I don’t want to make it sound like I know exactly what you went through, though. My situation wasn’t nearly as bad as yours.”
Remy almost laughed aloud as she tried to place why Allison’s words sounded so familiar before remembering how many times she’d said them herself. “I’ve made the mistake of thinking that before, too. Don’t be too quick to invalidate your own experiences, especially if it’s just because you’re comparing them to someone else’s. Other people’s problems almost always sound worse than yours. Besides…it’s not a competition, remember?”
Again, Allison looked annoyed as she heard her own words turned on her, though the expression was a little too intense to be entirely believed. The way the corners of her mouth kept twitching upward didn’t help the effect, either. She eventually sighed as her smile won its battle with her resolve.
“If you say so. Why don’t I tell you, and then you can be the judge?”