Because of this argument, I feel worse and worse. My heart—this fragile, tired heart—keeps reminding me of itself again, like an old, painful scar that refuses to let me forget past wounds. Every beat echoes with sharp, burning discomfort that doesn't let go for a single minute. The pain, which has passed through me many times before, now tightens my chest with new force, making every breath heavy and agonizing, as if the air fills with the weight of worries and fears, constricting me from the inside, clouding my mind, and poisoning every moment.
To be honest, the heart problems started long before Mary was born—back then, when stress and anxiety settled deep inside me like an impenetrable cloud hanging over my life, pressing down with its cold and darkness, when I broke up with Maxim. In those moments, when I already knew I was pregnant, I felt my strength slowly leaving and my emotions scattering in every direction, giving neither my soul nor my body peace. Longing and fear intertwined in my heart, making it beat unevenly and painfully. Back then, I was prescribed a sedative to somehow calm the wave of anxiety that kept coming, wave after wave, plunging me into a state of constant tension and worry.
After the baby is born, I shift my focus to her, to her genuine smiles and clear cries, and then my heart bothers me less, giving way to maternal joy and care. In these moments, I can forget my fears, although they hide somewhere deep inside, ready to remind me of themselves at the most unexpected moment, like shadows of the past lurking in the dark.
But with the new encounter with Maxim, old wounds reopen: at first, it is just light tingling, barely noticeable and easily dismissed by thoughts, like shadows of the past I try not to see. I try to ignore them, continuing to take the pills I prescribed myself, without consulting a doctor—because deep down I hope everything will pass on its own, that time will heal everything without extra effort. But the fear sneaking from within gives no peace, creating an invisible cage of anxiety around me.
When we reconcile, the pain eases slightly, as if it retreats, giving a brief respite and a faint ray of hope in my heart. This moment is filled with fragile hope, a barely audible breath of calm amid the storms inside. But sometimes, in the quiet of the night or in the most unexpected moments, my heart still tingles, reminding me of its vulnerability, like a small anxious signal I stubbornly ignore, as if afraid to hear the truth, afraid to admit that the wounds haven't healed yet, and I am still fighting with myself.
But now… now my heart feels like it is burning with fire—it burns and tightens, making every cell of my body tense from pain and anxiety. It feels like it is about to burst, unable to withstand the onslaught of worries and fear, filling me with a sense of helplessness and impending disaster.
I step away from Alice, trying to find Maxim with my eyes, desperately needing his support, his presence, to feel any kind of anchor in this chaos of feelings, in this storm of pain and despair that clouds everything around.
"You're kidding! Do you really think you mean that much to him?" she keeps arguing with me, her words blowing my inner flame of doubt like a cold wind, piercing to the bone and leaving an icy trail, making my heart tighten even more and my soul tremble from pain and disappointment. Every word echoes in my head, poisoning hope and tearing off the mask of confidence I so desperately try to keep.
"Hey, where are you stomping off to?" I suddenly hear her voice, as if Alice has only just realized I am leaving, as if she has just noticed my retreat, and this sudden concern only intensifies my feeling of loneliness and being lost, heightening the sense that I am left completely alone with my fears and doubts.
"Max!" I shout across the club, my voice trembling, breaking between despair and hope, like a cry for help, an outpouring of all the accumulated pain and desire to be heard, to be noticed by him. My voice bursts out, full of inner fire and anxiety, reflecting the depth of my feelings and my need for support, which seems absent.
"Why do you need him? Want to say I'm treating you badly? Please, don't!" she worries, trying to stop me, and I feel everything around turning into chaos, where words merge into a hum, and emotions overwhelm me like a storm that cannot be stopped.
But I cannot hold back anymore. Something inside snaps. Alice tries to grab my hand—maybe out of care, maybe to stop me—but I push her aside with such force that I am surprised at this sudden impulse. It feels like I release everything that has been building up too long: resentment, fear, helplessness, anxiety. Every movement is a cry of the soul suffocating within its own walls.
"Go away!" I answer quietly, my throat dry, and I walk as if in a dream, in a fog, where the world around loses its clear outlines, and inside me everything rages like a storm of madness and fear, where every feeling is heightened to the limit and feels unbearable.
This is not just a desire to leave—it is an attempt to break free. From the trap. From the suffocating space that tightens more and more around me. From myself. And in that moment, I do not even know what I fear more—to stay or to go.
"Maxim!" I shout again, taking in as much air as I can, louder this time, strained, almost losing my voice, as if hoping my words will break the walls of indifference and reach the very heart—where I desperately need support. My cry trembles like a thin string pulled to its limit—I pour everything into it: fear, despair, plea—as if this last call could break the barriers of silence, pull me from icy stillness, and return me to a world where salvation, warmth, life is still possible…
And suddenly—I see him. His silhouette, painfully familiar, cuts through the space like a beam of light, but… it is already too late.
My body feels like it falls into an abyss—a black, icy pit where pain no longer exists, where everything becomes muffled, viscous, lifeless. Everything inside me freezes. Time loses meaning. The world disappears, leaving only emptiness. Only silence remains. Dense, ringing. It crushes my chest, seeps under my skin, like chains of cold.
I try to hold on, to grasp something inside myself, but my hands tremble—and I fall. My knees buckle, the world spins, and for a moment it feels like I am flying… into darkness. My eyes close on their own, and I collapse to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Consciousness fades, shrouded in haze. Everything becomes distant, muted. Weakness engulfs me, merciless, like a tide, and I no longer fight—I just drift, losing myself in this endless, icy calm.
The world disappears, leaving only this boundless darkness, where there is neither pain nor light… Only a hollow sense that I am dissolving, without a trace, forever.