Bleeding fingers. I bite down to taste blood and feel the pain. A sharp rush jolts my senses. I am here. I am alive.  She looks at me with strong look and whispers to stop it.  I sometime do it , just to get her attention, because I like her attention. 

I walk into a restaurant. The hostess has her back to me, laughing and flirting with the waiter. She turns, looks past me, and keeps talking. She does not see me, even though I am standing six feet in front of her. When the conversation ends, she seems annoyed that I am still there. Maybe I should leave.

I sit nervously at a table in a nice restaurant. My attention is fixed on her. She laughs and smiles at her phone, then looks up as if suddenly realizing I am across from her. She says the cat video was funny and finally puts the phone down. Maybe I just appeared, and now she can see me.

I lie in bed. Someone drops beside me, turns away with a giggle, and plays a video on her phone. She needs her time. I look around and see only her back, like a wall between us. The bed is large, but all I see are walls and the back of a person. I am alone in a hole. I cry, but can anyone hear me?

Mental illness affects us all to different degrees. I struggle with it regularly. Anxiety and nervousness can come over me suddenly. In those moments, I need touch, a hug, and reassurance. I once asked her gently.

Many times, I have told her I am unhappy. She looks for reasons, but what I need is to feel seen, held, and reassured. She blames others, or imagined others, but the devil I fight is inside me. I feel that if someone could simply see me, hold me, and tell me everything is all right, we could face the demons together. I once told her I needed her protection. She gave it to me once, and I felt her love.  But that was different and difficult time. I respect her these efforts.  I never forget.

I stare at her not as a crazed or lustful man, but to hold her in my mind and soul. It makes her uncomfortable, but it calms me. In those moments, I feel that I see her in a way only I can. I like being with her. Only her.

She has her demons too. I try to reassure her and hold her quietly. Words do little; being present is what matters most. She is the only one. Does she know?