June 19th Johnathan Johnson

June 19th, Photograph by Johnathan Johnson from lip and blueish colors around my eyes, but I always blamed these on the darkness that I fell so in love with.

In the moment that I reached for that purple plastic bottle, I realized I was drowning. The safety of my situation turned to instant, intense panic. I could feel my entire body give into the emotions it had been suppressing for months. When he found me on the floor, sobbing over seemingly nothing, he knew what had happened. He had seen me cry before, but he had never experienced me fully in a state of vulnerability, visibly crushed by whatever I had on my heart.

He calmly asked me what was wrong, but my voice was so unstable and shaky that I could only push out more cries. It felt like all of my emotions had individual hands, and they were all clenching their fists around my throat simultaneously. I finally squeezed out the words, “I can’t do this anymore” and watched the color drain from his face. I watched the boy I had loved more than life completely crumble before me, and somehow that gave me the strength to rise and leave with my dignity. That was the day I finally came alive again. I’ll never know why my independence was within a bottle of shampoo, but I will never forget the moment I saw that reflection in the mirror and knew I had to leave. I will never forget the moment I saw the sun beaming through the surface of the water as my lungs were burning, and I made the conscious decision to reach for it. I will never forget the moment I broke through the water and felt the air flooding my lungs again. I will never forget the moment I sat in my small white Toyota and finally felt like I was breathing again.