Captive{ated}

Thirty-Six: Trust

After I confessed my secret to you, time slowed. The weeks suddenly went by at a snail's pace. I waited for inevitable discovery, for you to form a plan. I impatiently waited for something to happen.

But nothing did.

We continued our lives- me teaching and you doing whatever duties you had- as if I didn't try to run away, as if you didn't know I couldn't have children, as if my time wasn't running out. However, at the same time, things weren't quite the same either. You smiled at me, but it wasn't the same. There was an underlying worry, and seeing that filled me with doubt. You treated me with respect and asked for nothing, but it felt like this wasn't out of kindness. Rather, you kept your distance from me, as if you were trying to detach yourself both physically and emotionally. Were you simply still processing your newfound information, or were you trying to separate yourself from me for other reasons?

Reasons I didn't want to think about.

What was going through your head, Caleb? What kind of torment were you going through alone? You were always independent when it came to your emotions, which I think to protect me, to not concern me. But in this instance, it had the opposite effect. How you acted worried me greatly, you know, causing my suspicions and stress to rise as a result.

On the night I told you my secret, you seemed completely devoted to me. There was no way you'd turn your back against me. You wouldn't dare betray me again.

But now, I wasn't so sure.

In the evenings, when you seemingly sat as far from me as possible or busied yourself in other ways from my company, I found solace in Joy. I was still the center of her world even if I was no longer the center of yours. It was a bitter thought to have, but it was softened by her unwavering affection. She laid on top of me like a lap dog, and I was grateful for one guarantee in life: she'd never abandon me.

So many insecurities plagued me like an insistent shadow. My worries were so great they impacted my attitude as well. They blended in to my day to day life, making me into a person I wasn't proud of. My patience was much thinner, my tolerance non-existent. While I didn't allow myself to lash out or break down, especially towards the children at school, I had to step out of the room for moments to compose myself. Despite my best efforts, the students caught on to my irritability. Children have a way of sensing when you're feeling off. They seemed to be on their best behavior, not as rambunctious or excited as normal.

I took the fun out of learning, and that killed me on the inside, but no matter how conscious I tried to be of it, my emotions seemed to be entities of their own. There was no control.

To make matters worse, all this stress led to headaches. As if I wasn't struggling enough already, those made it so I laid down periodically where instead of resting, I'd overthink about all of this. Was I stressing myself out for nothing? Maybe you were taking your time thinking of a plan to help me. Maybe you weren't trying to distance yourself from me. Maybe it was all in my head.

But at the same time, I knew you were hurting, too.

I wondered if your differences were noticeable as well. Like me, it seemed like a storm cloud hung over your head. Did your work get impeded, too? I didn't dare ask. Part of me really didn't want to know. If others noticed you were off like you were at home, they'd start asking questions, and I was afraid of what your answer would be.

It turned out, unfortunately, that all my stress wasn't for nothing.

I came home late from school that day, having been caught up making activities. I was expecting another night of eating a mostly silent dinner before sitting and reading with Joy, but that wasn't what I got. The moment I walked inside, you ambushed me.