Caught Up In You by Kels Barnholdt

spoonfuls too much of
sugar into my coffee and take a long swig out of the steaming liquid. “Slow is
an understatement.”
    My aunt nods and cuts a tiny piece of her
pie off, popping it into her mouth. “I know the feeling, so many meetings
today, and I have to be up at 430 to start it all over again.”
    I’m practically on top of her now, and I
pull out the chair next to her and allow myself to plop down. I can’t help but
notice how loud and ungraceful it is compared to when she sat down. The thought
urges me to sit up a little and straighten my back out. I allow the hotness of
my mug to travel through my hands and warm my whole body. “At least we’re
feeling it, huh?”
    Another apple gets popped into her mouth.
“Feeling it?”
    I nod. “I’d rather feel tired and
overwhelmed than feel nothing at all.”
    She gets a strange look across her face then,
almost sad. I realize a little late that I’ve said too much. I want to say it’s
the lack of sleep, but the truth is that I’m becoming more and more comfortable
with my aunt lately, a little to comfortable one might say. But I can’t help
it, it’s not like I’m trying to let it happen, she’s just so nice.
    But I know being open with anyone right
now, especially her, is dangerous. Still, more and more I find little pieces of
myself slipping out. Little pieces of the parts of me I’m trying to hide. The
part that’s still hurt and sad, the part that’s still dark and tortured, that’s
still healing from what happened to me while I was away in the wellness center.
The part of me that’s still trying to grieve for my mom and every other part of
the scars running through me that I’ve gotten so good at hiding from the rest
of the world.
    Still, with my Aunt Jenna, sometimes it’s
hard to find a filter. It’s a surreal feeling because the only other person I’ve
ever been like with was my mom. For a second I feel like she’s gong to push it,
like she’s going to ask me why I would say that, but that’s not in my aunt’s
character. My aunt doesn’t push. “Well, just know I’m proud of you.”
    Then she squeezes my hand and stands up from
the table heading toward her bedroom. I stare at the half eaten piece of apple
pie that she left sitting on the table and let her words settle into my bones
and I can’t help but notice the tug the feeling has on my heart.
    ***
    I feel like a zombie as I walk through
the halls the next morning at school. I had stayed up until about two the night
before working on all my back work. Maybe it was the fact that my aunt had told
me she was proud of me or the fact that I downed a oversized cup of coffee, but
either way when I had gotten back to my room last night I was more motivated
and focused then ever. I had gone through way more than I thought I would in
one night.
    Now though, as I walk toward my homeroom
with my Starbucks in hand I was beginning to regret my choice of staying up so
damn late. This was my second cup of coffee and so far it was dong little to numb
the feeling of exhaustion that was consuming my body. Not to mention my lack of
sleep was definitely starting to affect my appearance.
    I look down at my black yoga pants and oversized
Nike sweatshirt. My hair is up in a high ponytail and my makeup consists of
nothing but a little bronzer and chapstick. Okay, so it’s a little boyish, but
I could hardly get out of bed this morning. I wasn’t in the right state of mind
to pick out a perfect outfit and match my whole outfit to my appearance. Plus,
I wanted to be comfortable. I didn’t have the energy to concentrate on walking
in heels today. That was for sure.
    Besides, it’s not like I had anyone to
look good for these days, the only boy I wanted didn’t want me. Although, one
might say the smart thing to do would be to look my absolute best at every
moment in hopes that he would see how amazing I look and fall all over the
place trying to win me back. Hmm.
    Suddenly I have this image of me