How do I explain what went through me at those whispered words, sounded so slowly, so carefully?
I didn't panic, I didn't go cold. I didn't quite stop breathing. My chest didn't quite constrict, but rather, it felt like something fell out of place inside me. And thoughts leapt into my mind, but they were merely conscious thoughts of usually subconscious actions. I felt my brain's instructions to breathe, for my heart to pump, to process this information. I remained very still, my face pressed close against his to hear each word. I think there was a small part of me that immediately starting screaming but it was boxed away so tightly, before it even began, that I felt no panic. But it was as though the world had suddenly become dreadfully wrong.
My boyfriend has a serious heart problem. It causes him an incredible uncontrollable amount of pain at times. Thus far the doctors don't know what it is. The results from tests he took on Friday may show what it is. It may be life threatening. And if not, well they still won't know what it is.
I can't describe to you what it is like to see him go through so much pain. To have to hold my face straight and stop those tears. I can't make it more painful for him. Some times at night his mum hears him and goes to comfort him. Some times she cries. I save my tears for myself. It is the least I can do. Not that I blame his mum, having to see her child go through that.
Do you know what scares the shit out of me? Honestly, that the worst I have seen, is nowhere near as bad as it does get. So bad that as I found out on Friday night, he has tried various things to stop it. He has stopped eating for three days straight, he has tried punching himself in the heart when it happens and finally, he began to use a hammer to hit himself in the back of the head, just to distract himself from the pain. I could barely stop the cry that wanted to escape my mouth as he told me this, because I understand why he does it, because the pain is so bad. But it hurts so much to know he is resorting to this. It is the reason for all his headaches lately. He hasn't done it in a while though, thank God. But I don't even know which is worse, him doing that, or trying to deal with such excruciating pain. It tears me apart, all I want is to make it stop. I would take it myself, if I could. I would take it all and I would not regret that for a second.
But I can't
And that only makes it more painful to watch. How do parents, family members go through these things, knowing they would give their lives, they would do anything to prevent their loved one from suffering, but they cannot? That all they can do is wait, and watch, and pray, and hope. Hold, comfort, wipe tears.
Not that I've seen Jimit cry. He wouldn't cry over this. He can't even remember the last time he properly cried. But the last time he shed a tear was over his baby cousin going in for heart surgery. I love that his heart is for others, I love that he would get in a fight with a guy in order to defend his self harming friend who descended into such darkness because of the dickhead messing with her emotions in the most terrible ways. In order to protect another of his friends from falling into his sadistic trap.
I'm glad that I help his pain by being there, holding him through it, holding him as tight as I can even when he tries to push me away because a part of him is scared he will hurt me. I'm glad that in his sleep I can calm it down so it doesn't hurt anymore, and I wish I could do that whilst he is awake.
I love how recently, when he is asleep, a part of him talks to me, and tells me these things, and converses with me, as strange as it is. It's just another part of our relationship, which is already full of random things. And that's why I love 'us'.
I love how he talks to me about my own time of hurting myself, I love how sometimes he kisses my scars as though he is trying to take away all the pain I ever felt, and I am glad that in some way I make his pain less. I just wish I could do it all the time.
And right now, I am so scared.
Any minute now, he will call me. And then I will know if it is life threating or not.
Even if it's not, what do we do?
It's six minutes past 3:30. And a part of me is terrified that he's late calling because it is bad news.