journal
commodore
— 06/16/26
She studied his features.
He was so familiar, she just couldn’t quite remember from where.
“Is there something on his face?” His boyfriend’s voice was dry. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“No,” she laughed. “He just reminds me of someone.”
“Who?” He spoke a quiet ‘thank you’ to his boyfriend as he set his coffee in front of him. The steam obscured his face.
He looked like an abstract painting, someone on the other side of a frozen glass.
“Hmm. Someone… from my past maybe?” Her finger tapped against her chin as the gears in her head turned.
“Like… high school or the middle ages?” His boyfriend responded.
That got a chuckle out of him. “I’ll be honest, I don’t remember you from before you met your partner.” He put his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his folded hands. “Although, you do remind me of someone as well. I’m not sure who though. Maybe I’ve seen you in a dream before.”
It felt like someone poured cold water down her spine. Her eyes shot up to his - a sharp, icy blue - no longer obscured by the comforting steam.
“A dream?”
He frowned slightly. “You’ve gone pale. Are you alright?”
“Sorry,” she lied. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Uhm, I’ve got to go…”.
“You’re shaking. You can’t go anywhere like this. I’m going to call-,”
“No, no. Don’t please.” She stood up quickly, sending her chair screeching across the floor. “They already know- uhm. I’m just going to go back to bed. Sorry.”
“Breakfast isn’t done,” his boyfriend called after her.
She could hear them talking quietly as she locked herself in their bedroom, drawing the curtains. She cried softly into her pillow. Her stomach twisted and writhed, a dance of nerves and fear.
It was just a coincidence.
Why was she so scared?
What was there to be afraid of?
There was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me. May I come in?”
He was so polite and kind. It couldn’t be him. She was friends with his boyfriend - she knew he would never even be seen with someone who harmed others.
She picked these little thoughts out of her head like flowers in a field.
Taking a deep breath, she got up and unlocked the door.
He took one look at her tearstained face and gave her a cordial look. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t mean that. It was just a joke.” He smiled at her gently, restrained. “What are you afraid of?”
Her bottom lip trembled.
“Oh my. Here.” He put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her out to the couch.
“What did you do?” His boyfriend said, voice bland as ever, but tinged with concern.
“She’s afraid,” was all he said.
His boyfriend came over, dish towel still thrown over his shoulder. They sat on either side of her as she sobbed uncontrollably.
“When you’re ready, tell us what’s going on, okay?”
His cologne was overwhelming. It filled her head like a psychedelic.
“It’s the nightmares,” the words burst from her lips with a waterfall of tears.
“The nightmares?” He repeated.
She hated how gentle he spoke.
“It’s you,” she howled, pointing an accusing finger at him and glaring through her tears. “You- you’re in my nightmares. It has to be you… They didn’t start until… And you’re- you’re disgusting. It’s all the time, over, and over, and over…,” she couldn’t even move anymore. She just fumbled and sniffled, crumpled and uncrumpled her sleeve.
And he smiled.
“I would never do that.”
She stared blankly at the crows feet around his eyes that had appeared with his smile.
“I’m dating a man, darling.”
“I know,” her voice cracked.
“You didn’t always,” his boyfriend murmured.
“Not now,” he chided.
She could practically feel his boyfriend roll his eyes as he got up. He rested his hand momentarily on her head before heading back to the kitchen.
That was the most comfort she had gotten from anyone but her partner in weeks. Tears bubbled up again, and she sniffled.
“Are you really seeing me?” He sounded hurt.
She looked at him again. Really looked at him. “I- I think so. You sound the same… And-." Dizziness spun her brain. “I don’t feel well.”
“Are you pregnant?”
The question shocked her into consciousness. “What?”
“Are you pregnant,” he said again.
“No,” she sputtered, flushing a deep, dark, red.
“Seriously, listen to me, I want you to know I would never do that.” He gazed at her with honest eyes. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she nodded, wiping away her tears.
“Have you considered seeing anyone about this?”
She looked up in shock once again.
“About… nightmares?”
He nodded. Dead serious.
Her fingers tugged at the sleeves of her shirt. “I’ll look into it.”
She did not look into it.
“Have you looked into anything yet?” He gazed at her over the rim of his glasses.
She shook her head.
“They’re talking about you, you know.”
“What?”
“They’re worried.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
“Why don’t you confront your fears?”
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