She looks up into my eyes allowing me to let in her pain. Her bloodshot eyes, the bags under her eyes. The red freckles she gets around her cheekbones from the continuous rubbing to wipe off the tears. Her hair, long and chestnut brown, drooping along her face. Her eyes though. Its incredible how much pain it can store. How much it can project.
I hold her.
She pushes me of course. Panicking and trying to jerk me off but I hold her tighter. Knowing she’d do that. I keep a calm face and a quiet mouth. No one can even describe how hard it is to keep myself sane during this. I take her in until she eventually settles and turns her wails into muted cries.
“Hamed, he just keeps coming” saying it all too fast and down to a whisper.
“His smile was spilled all over the walls” Voice too shaky. Stuttering. “Every time I closed my eyes he was… there-He-Even when they were open. He-he was there. I- I, Hamed I-” It’s her turn to hold me with all her might while her her body shudders.
She breaks into long sobs and we stay like that for about 40 minutes. By the time she gets exhausted, I start trying to make her laugh “You should’ve seen Lucy when I gave her Ice cream, the face she makes when she gets a brain freeze was remarkable, here I’ll show you” She’d giggle a little then stay really calm and motionless. Eyes tired and hollow.
Another moment of honesty.
I try to grasp every hint of my worry and fear during this time to make her smile. I’ve learned that showing sadness only makes her think I pity her. Me worrying tells her that I’d eventually stop worrying. Trying to let her talk about it would make her peel her exposed arms and stomach and legs with her nails. My job was mainly to calm her down enough that she wouldn’t hurt herself, to keep her distracted enough that his smile wont bother her for a day or two.