Sit Back, Gotta Catch My Breath

"So, Alex, how has this past week been for you?"
I shrugged. "Well, my ribs are continuing to heal and my bruises and cuts are almost gone..."
"You know what I mean, Alex. Are you doing okay without Jack?"
"Oh..." I looked down at my shoes. "Y-Yeah. I guess."
"You guess?"
I shrugged. "Well, I'm graduating in a few days..."
"Well, then, shouldn't you be happy?"
I shook my head. "Jack and I were supposed to graduate together. And then we were going to start packing and we were going to get our own place."
"Your own place?"
"Yeah. We were planning on getting our own place. We were planning on living together. Maybe even..."
"Maybe even what?"
"Maybe even... getting married some day..."
"Married?"
I nodded. "Yeah. We talked about it a couple times..."
"So you two were pretty serious, huh?"
"Yeah. So, to answer your question, this past week has been pretty shitty. Because all I can think about is how Jack won't be there when I take this huge step..." Tears began to roll down my cheeks. "... He w-won't be there when I c-can finally say th-that I made it..."

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I walked out of the building and got into Mum's car and we headed home. She eventually learned that I don't want to talk to anyone after I talk to the therapist, so the car ride was completely silent. When we got home, I went straight to my room without a word.
Until today, the fact that I'm graduating hadn't quite sunk in. But now it was hitting me full force and I was freaking out. I began pacing my room and rubbing my hands together as I tried to slow my breathing, but it was no use. I could feel tears start to run down my cheeks. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and stared at it for a moment before chucking it at the wall, causing it to shatter into a million pieces.
I was graduating in a few days. And Jack wasn't going to be there.
Jack wasn't going to be there.
Jack.
Wasn't.
Going.
To.
Be.
There.

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I sat there and hung my head as I listened to my parents lecture me about how I'm eighteen and I'm too old to be throwing temper tantrums. Needless to say, they were pretty upset about my phone... and the lamp... and the wall...
I don't know what got into me. But all of a sudden, I just couldn't breath and I wanted to destroy everything in my path. And then I just ended up rolled up in a sobbing ball on the floor. And that's when my dad found me.
And now they've been lecturing me for the past half hour or so.
I sighed and rested my head on my hand and watch my mum pace the room as she repeated herself over and over. "Okay. I won't do it again. I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me, but it won't happen again," I said, trying to sound like I meant it. But in all honesty, I didn't even know this one would happen. Who knows? It could very well happen again.
She stopped pacing and sighed. "Alright. But if it happens again, you're grounded."
And that was it. She and my father turned away from me and went upstairs for my bedroom. After a few minutes of just sitting there, I followed suit and retreated to my mess of a bedroom. I sighed as I looked around. What had gotten into me?
I slowly started to pick up my mess, down to the last piece of ripped paper. It took me over an hour, but I finally got it done. I took a deep breath and sat down on my bed. I looked around at my now-clean room and tried to remember how it all started, but I couldn't. It was all a blur. And that frustrated me even more...

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