One day until premonition.
I took the day off work so that I could spend all of my time with John, he managed to get the day off as well after I begged him to. I decided to take him on a hike through a local conservation area just past the train station that had a nice boardwalk weaving throughout, making for an easy trek. I refused to let go of his hand even as I was driving, trying to contain the emotions that were swelling up inside of me. Before we went walking on the boardwalk, I had to use the washroom in order to isolate myself so that I could cry. I was so heartbroken knowing that he was going to die, unsure of how to stop it from happening. I kept thinking over his death and how I could make a difference. Then it hit me – what if I didn't allow him to go to Lake Newberry? What if, instead, I spent all of tomorrow with him so that whoever had intentions of killing him would have to go through me first? That was it, I thought, all I had to do was keep him with me no matter what – and then everything would be okay, we would pass the premonition and he would live. I wanted to believe in the hope that was blazing in my chest, but I still had the lingering fear of losing him some other way. All I had to do was stay awake for all of tomorrow night with him, not once letting him leave my side.
I came back out of the public washrooms, making sure my eyes were dry as I joined John's side once more. He cocked an eyebrow, taking my hand and spinning me towards him before I could continue walking. He asked me if everything was okay, and I simply excused my red and puffy eyes on allergies, telling him that everything was fine – I really wanted it to be. I had the perfect man beside me who wanted to spend every second of his time with me, how could it not be fine? Most of all, I wanted to believe that we were brought together for a reason. I didn't know what that reason was yet, but maybe it was so that I could save his life from ending too soon.
We hiked hand-in-hand throughout the boardwalk, talking about everything from wildflowers to our dreams and aspirations. He spoke a lot about how he wanted to find a job working with children and teenagers, that he felt led to help others. He mentioned that he had spoken to someone over at Harrow Hall Mental Health Community Services and that they were willing to set him up with an interview at their social services office, hopefully securing a job in his field. He was excited as he spoke about it, telling me that they were pretty sure the interview would be in two weeks time. I loved seeing him speak about how passionate he was for his career, that he had done a few placements in university working with teenagers and how he found it so rewarding to help guide them through life. He had also volunteered for awhile as a Big Brother and greatly enjoyed the time he had there, saying how it was the first time he ever had a connection so deep to someone who wasn't blood related. He mentioned how he still sends postcards every so often to his Little Brother to make sure the boy knows he's never alone.
"You would be surprised how often guys shove their emotions under the carpet. Depression in men is still very stigmatized, despite the fact that we have come so far in treating mental illness. Women are typically more open to receiving help, especially when someone extends a helping hand, whereas men are more likely to go it alone until they can't anymore. It's sad to say that the statistic for suicide in young men is still quite high," John explained. "I'm not saying this is the case for everyone because situations differ, but it is overwhelming prevalent in men."
"Are there still the same services available to men as there are women? It seems silly to say that only women accept help," I replied.
"That's not it, like I said it's different for everyone – but the statistics do speak for themselves. For some reason we've taught men that being emotionally vulnerable means to be weak, and that to accept help from others to treat an underlying condition is a blow to their masculinity. A lot of people don't realize that strength isn't pretending to be okay, strength is admitting when something in your body – like a chemical imbalance, for example – isn't working properly and accepting the help and care you need to get better. If you broke a bone, you would go to the hospital for it. So why should it be any difference when a man is suffering with depression? It's just as legitimate as a physical ailment."
I agreed completely with him, squeezing his hand in mine. "I hope it's not too personal of me to ask, but have you struggled with depression?"
"Of course, some situational and some just because that's how my brain functions. And it's not too personal for you to ask, I want this to be a talking point more often between people. Breaking the stigma of mental illness means starting a dialogue, we need to talk about it more often instead of letting it fester," He explained. "I went through a really dark period in my life after my parents accident, and it took a whole team of people to get me to where I am today. At first I thought I could handle everything on my own, that I was some tough guy that could sort out my emotions despite the fact that it was perfectly okay for me to accept help, or even ask for it. Pretending I was okay didn't work, because I ended up in a worse place than I could have been had I just said to someone I need help. Since then I've made self-love a huge part of my life, and that it's okay to accept help from people who only want the best for you."
"I'm proud of you, John," I said, stopping him so that I could hug him. "You are such a strong man, I can't imagine what you have had to deal with."
He pulled away so that he could get a better look at my face, stroking back the hair from my face. "I also wanted to say that if you're dealing with something and you need help, Ellion, I am always here for you. I've noticed that you've been upset more recently, and you don't by any means have to tell me what's going on if you're not comfortable, but if you need someone to talk to or just need someone to be by your side, I'll always be here."
I could feel the sting of tears, nodding as I leaned in to kiss him. "I just need you right now, is that okay?"
He pressed his forehead against mine, wrapping his arms lovingly around me. "You can have all of me," He said quietly, pressing his lips against my forehead.
We spent the rest of the afternoon hiking through the boardwalk and enjoying each others company before heading back to both of our houses to get changed into more appropriate attire for dinner at the only slightly fancy restaurant in town, The Rosewick. I wore a loosely fitting marigold coloured strapless dress with a cinched belt around my midriff, letting my long hair flow naturally around my shoulders while pinning back my bangs so that they were out of my face. I wasn't typically a fan of make-up, but tonight I made an exception as I used some soft neutral eyeshadow and liquid eyeliner, as well as a peach lipstick. After I was completely ready, I headed out to pick up John at Fletcher's house. John looked so handsome as he walked down the driveway and got into the passenger side of my van, wearing a navy blue button-up with black dress pants.
The Rosewick was a pretty restaurant with low lights and candles donning each table, it was so romantic with the scent of charbroiled meat and the occasional whiff of a woman's flowery perfume. John and I ordered an appetizer of bruschetta to share, before both ordering our entrees. He ordered white wine for the table, but I only had a very small amount because I was driving and also because after my first taste of wine, I wasn't a big fan of it. John appreciated my honesty when I told him that it wasn't for me, but was happy that I at least tried it before writing it off. We enjoyed our dinner and a long conversation until it was getting late, both realizing it was time to go home. As we got into my van, I knew I didn't want the night to end just yet. I asked him if he would like to come home with me, that my dad was out for the night, and that I would very much like to spend the night with him. At first he was hesitant, but he finally nodded.
When we arrived back at my house, I changed into my pyjamas while he unbuttoned his shirt and laid back in my bed. I left only my string lights on as I got under the covers beside him, cuddling up close to him so that my ear was against his chest. I could hear his heart racing, his arm tense around me as he leaned over to place a kiss on the top of my head.
"We should talk about sex," I blurted out, feeling my cheeks run hot.
He was quiet for a moment before he nodded. "We should," He replied timidly.
The silence was awkward between us, finally breaking it by letting out a chuckle. "How do I start this conversation?" I asked, burying my face further into his chest.
He finally lightened up and laughed, nodding a few times as he thought something through carefully. "Well, I guess we should talk about limits and comfort zones," He started, taking another few seconds to think before continuing. "It's important that we're both on the same page when we go into this, and that we both know it's what we want. Your consent means the most to me."
"As does yours," I replied, finally pulling my face from his chest so that I could roll over onto my stomach to see his face. "How do we know if it's not right?"
He looked down at me, running his fingers through my hair. "The second you say stop, or even if I say stop, then that's it – we take a break and talk about it."
"No matter what?" I questioned and he repeated what I said, except this time it wasn't a question. "You won't think less of me?"
He looked shocked as soon as I said the words, shaking his head. "Never, Ellion. The best part of sex is having consent and both parties enjoying it, if you are ever uncomfortable I want you to state that you are."
Something about him saying those words sent my heart racing. I laid my chin on his chest, staring up at him. "Should we have sex tonight?" I asked.
"That depends, are you ready?"
"I think I am, are you?"
"Maybe you need more time to think if you're not sure," John said, stroking the side of my face. "We don't have to rush into anything, Ellion, we can take our time if that's what you want."
"Is it okay if we just talk for awhile?"
He nodded, staring deeply into my eyes. "Of course it is," He replied before leaning forward to kiss me once, settling whatever tension was between us.
We talked all through the night about whatever came into our heads, focusing a lot on our futures and the things that meant the most to us. For awhile we got into a conversation about our exes and spoke in depth about what had gone wrong in our previous relationships. I talked a lot about how I was always a bit too comfortable with Atheson, in the sense that I never really fought against him on topics that I disagreed with or how I never once wanted to rock the boat despite how often he did. I was so afraid of losing him and changing the routine we had gotten into that I ended up sacrificing so much of myself for his bad behaviour. Even when he came to break-up with me, I was willing to forgive the fact that he had cheated on me with Hadley, even to make an exception for him just so that we wouldn't lose the comfort we had created between each other. I realized now that it wasn't comfort making me want him, it was fear; the fear of being alone, never finding someone to build a life with, not ever being good enough for someone – when in reality I was sacrificing all of those possibilities by wanting to stay with Atheson. Even though it hurt at the time for him to say he wanted to see other people, I appreciated now that he had left me. Because if he hadn't, I probably would have spent the rest of my life with him – always making exceptions.
For John the reason his relationship with Nora failed was because of the fact that they could never quite communicate properly to each other. A normal statement was always misconstrued as something more cynical, often leading to very heated arguments between them. John loved Nora and he loved her fiery spirit, but he didn't love that sometimes she thought too far into things to the point that she was seeing things skewed. John admitted that he wasn't perfect either, that sometimes he avoided talking to Nora about certain things in fear of getting into an argument, which didn't help their lack of communication. He also admitted that he stopped trying near the end of their relationship, that he was too stressed to think straight and their relationship suffered because of it. He said that his relationship with Nora taught him a lot about the importance of communication, and that was something he had to learn the hard way. Even the last time they spoke there was too much in the way for either of them to communicate properly. He stressed how important communication had to be in our relationship, and I agreed completely.
We had talked for so long that the sun began to rise and was slowly shining through my window, both of us were starting to wind down now and feeling the effects of being tired. Today was the day John was going to die, but I couldn't let that happen – I had to stay awake, if not to save him but to enjoy my last day with him. As his eyes began to get heavy, I quickly interrupted him and asked if he wanted to go to Nancy's Diner to get breakfast. Clearly exhausted but still wanting to spend more time with me, John agreed. I made sure to drink two cups of coffee, which was very unlike me because coffee was not my most favourite choice of beverage, and ate a hearty breakfast in the hopes of staying awake. John seemed to perk up after a cup of coffee and soon we were back on track to staying awake. We returned to my house and decided to cuddle up on the couch together, having convinced him to ask Fletcher to let him have another day off work. I popped in a classic movie, placing a blanket over John and I. We watched the entirety of the movie, and at this point John was barely able to keep his eyes open. I said it was okay if he wanted to sleep, I would simply put in another movie to stay awake. But it didn't take long for my own eyes to get heavy, finding myself unable to keep awake any longer. Soon I was fast asleep in John's lap.