A Stronger, Vaster Feeling of the World Around Me

The school year is finally over. On the one hand, that means much less stress in my life, for at least a couple months. My phone vibrates on the other side of the room. I can feel it, startling me from my sleep. I pull it to me to snooze the alarm. Groggily, I begin to feel around my room for the door’s handle. I open the door and breathe. I can feel my senses expanding out further. It’s been a while and I have gotten much better at this. No, better isn’t the right term. Stronger. Vaster. But not necessarily better. Still lying in bed in the dark, I can feel down the hall into the living room and kitchen. The door to the bathroom is open, but the door to Will’s room is shut. Good. Means he, and more importantly his evening guest of the week-end, are still asleep. I take another deep breath and, starting to sit up in my bed, expand my feeling into the kitchen. I open the cabinet and pull out a filter and the bag of coffee. As I get the coffee maker ready, I stand up and slowly walk my way towards my closet. Once the coffee and filter are in, I open the back, and pull the pot under the sink. It takes about thirty seconds to fill the pot. This has been my every morning for a year, I’m starting to get the hang of it. I pull the first couple things out of the casual clean clothes pile in my closet. Some kind of light polyester T-shirt and jeans. I turn off the sink and dump the coffee pot full of water into the back of the coffee maker. Replacing the pot, I press the button to turn on the coffee maker. I pull on the jeans and flip the light switch. That way, if Will does wake up, he should notice the light on and be more careful. Pulling my phone to my hand, I silence the snoozed alarm. I am already up, after all. I pull on the T-shirt. It’s my green one. Don’t love that, but I don’t dislike it enough to grab another shirt. I toss it up and, while I start walking towards the kitchen, I mentally pull it over my chest.

Remember how I said stronger not better? That’s because, the stronger I’ve gotten, the stronger I keep getting, the less able I’ve been to not notice things. By November, I’d been able to feel the whole apartment if the doors were all open and I was in the middle of it. By February, It didn’t matter where in the apartment I was. By the end of March, my sensations were leaking through the space under doors and through even slightly cracked windows. And where before the pressure sort of waxed and waned, now anything within ten feet of me is just constantly there. Constantly pushing back against my non-existent touch. And I have self medicated several different ways to try to suppress that feeling, and nothing really works. So instead, I just didn’t mostly sleep in the month of February, was largely miserable, and eventually got used to lying in the dark for several hours shifting around myself, my blankets, my pillows, and everything else in my entire room, before finally finding a position comfortable enough for me to fall asleep. At least solid barriers have kept me out. I don’t have to deal with feeling the outside while I’m trying to get to sleep. Or other things that are separated from me in the evenings by solid walls. I continue to shuffle my way towards the kitchen, while I open the cabinet in the kitchen where all the cups and mugs are.

As I slowly walk into the living room, I hold up my hand. A mug shoots out of the cabinet and into my hand. The coffee pot beeps. I pull the pot out mentally and bring it over to me as well. Letting go of the mug and holding it up about an inch outside my hand, I pour the scalding hot coffee from the pot into the mug, then return the coffee pot to the maker to keep it warm. Lounging on the couch, still keeping an inch buffer between the mug and my hand, I take a cautious sip. See, while the world around me does apply pressure to me, it’s only tactile. No temperature, no nociception, nothing to tell me if something would be dangerous to touch my skin. Which is helpful at times. Like if my roommate is cooking or I’m walking past a barbecue, I don’t suddenly feel like I’m on fire. And, if I’m cooking or dealing with hot things, I don’t need to actually touch them. As I sip, I can hear Will and his friend are awake. Can’t feel them yet, Will took to putting a towel in the space under his door after I told him about the leakage of my perception. And while that does help mute their voices, I can still tell that they are talking. Gradually, I start to move the cup closer to my hand, until you would have to really be looking to tell. I can feel the heat emanating out from the ceramic. Before they open their door, I pull the pot to me one more time, refill my cup, and return it to the maker. Then, I pull out my phone and look at my calendar.

I’ve got my flight to visit my parents scheduled for tomorrow, which means today is going to be packing stuff, which takes me all of a few minutes while I’m inside the apartment and no one else besides optionally Will is, and figuring out next year’s details. I’m assuming we’ll renew our lease, but if not, I need to pull my stuff into storage before I head out as well. Or swing back here in the next month to do that.

The door to Will’s room opens. “You better have some fucking coffee for me,” Will yells as he and his guest walk out. As my senses expand into and around his room, I can immediately feel what the discussion loud enough for me to hear was probably about. They are both fully dressed.

“I made some coffee for me, but you’re welcome to it,” I reply as he and his guest walk in.

“Jonny, you met Kyle the other night, right?” Will says, just to be polite as he beelines it for the coffee.

“What’re you doing up so early?” I ask the rushing Will as the lean but muscular gentleman, Kyle, walks into the room. Then, I add a quick, “Nice to meet you, Kyle,” to the person who I will undoubtedly not need to remember by Monday.

“You too,” Kyle says as Will, drinking his coffee, brings Kyle a cup I don’t recognize filled with coffee. That travel mug is larger than a normal cup. I turn my head to glare at Will.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make more. We’ll need it anyways,” Will mutters.

Kyle takes the travel mug. It was probably his to begin with. “See you soon, Will?” he asks, a flirtatious look in his eye.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call you,” Will says right back with an even more flirtatious smile.

Kyle turns towards the door and adds a quick, “Bye, Jonny,” before leaving.

The moment the door closes, I turn to Will. “I believe I already asked, but the fuck you doing up so early?” As I do, I start to pull my suitcase out in my room.

“Parents are coming today. Need to be ready and reasonably adult,” he says.

I look at my calendar. He isn’t leaving until after me. I give him a curious look as I start pulling out another filter. “Why so early?” I ask. I start pulling out every set of dress clothes I have to line the bottom of my suitcase.

“They’re planning this dumb little mini-reunion thing. Don’t ask, I don’t know what nonsense they’re going to be doing.” He’s clearly stressed.

“Is there anything I can do? I’m really good at multitasking,” I say with a smile, as I pour the coffee grounds into the filter, begin to add casual clothes to my suitcase, and levitate my mug of coffee for effect.

He pauses for a moment, thinking as he fills a pitcher with water for the coffee maker. “Can you talk to Phyllis for us, just renew the lease,” he says, then realizing the assumption he made, adds a quick, “Assuming you still want to live with me next year.”

I smile. “You really think I want to deal with explaining to someone else how I’m telekinetic and why that means their casual hookups really should get dressed before going to the bathroom?”

He laughs. “Not quite what the fight was about, but good on you for catching that. It was more a ‘you need to leave because I have a busy day’ fight.” He pours the water into the basin and restarts the coffee pot.

“Yeah, I can definitely talk to Phyllis about that. When’s your family showing up on our doorstep?” I start to float my work books from our living room into my room to go into my bag.

“They said eleven which means ten.”

“Am I going to need to be here and am I going to need to remember literally any of their names?” I ask with a grin.

“Yes, and you probably should. But, they already kinda love you, so as long as you don’t tell them you don’t know their names, I don’t see that changing.”

“They love me?” I joke, “That’s a poor decision on their part. Any reason in particular? Just so I don’t prove them wrong in the first five minutes.”

He waves me off, smiling. “You will,” he says, “Lily talked to my step mom, so they think you’re a good influence on me.”

I grin wide and lean forwards as Will joins me on the couch. “So,” I say, “Is Lily going to be here?”

“No,” he says, sternly pointing a single finger at me. “No sleeping with my cousin.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I reply, grinning wider. “And anyways, I believe she’s only kinda your cousin,” I joke.

Will sighs. “You are a terrible person and I’m worse for knowing you.”

“Counterpoint, I can and do make us dinner and coffee while we’re doing our work and studying.”

Will laughs. “Fair. I’m worse for knowing you outside the last few weeks of each semester.”

I smile. “That’s more accurate.” I zip my suitcase. “Besides, I’m leaving for the airport tomorrow, so you don’t need to worry too much.” Taking my mug, I head over to the pot and refill it. “I’ll renew with Phyllis and be back around ten for your family.”

“Alright, thanks man,” he says as he goes and opens our closet to vacuum the place. I flick off my room’s light switch before heading out our door.

As I open the front door, sensations wash over me. Everything outside in a few block radius hits me. It takes me a moment, as it always does, to sort through it. Standing at our open door. I walk through and close the door behind me. Phyllis lives three blocks over. I can feel her car in the driveway of her place. I text her, asking if she’s good to meet. I don’t wait for a response. Instead I start walking towards her house. I’m a block down the road when I get a response from her. Her front door is opening. ‘Need to leave for the twentieth street property soon, what’s up?’

‘Be there in a moment,’ I reply, ‘Nothing bad.’

‘So you two are renewing,’ she texts back. She’s standing in her doorway texting me. ‘The rent is probably going to go up slightly, but other than that, same lease?’

I round the corner on the approach and give her a concerned look. Not that she can probably tell the details this far out. She starts walking out of her house towards her car. I pick up the pace. I hold her car door shut, just in case she’s trying to get away before we talk. “So,” I say as I rush forward into her driveway, “How much is slightly?”

For her part, she only tried her door once, then waited patiently. When it still seemed locked, she probably figured fate. “Not much,” she begins her spiel, “Just a slight cost of living adjustment.” From the tone of her voice, I know I can probably keep it minimal. She wants to deal with me less than she wants the rent increase. I just need to keep finagling over the details until she caves.