It’s our first holiday together and you’re all excited because we’re about to take off, but you have no idea that I’m holding on to the armrests like I’m holding on to the earth, stuck in a cycle of intrusive thoughts, too afraid to move my body in case I move in the wrong way and trigger a catastrophe.

As the plane begins to move, I turn to you and feel a sudden sense of dread rise in the pit of my stomach; the kind of dread I imagine a parent would feel for their child when sensing they were in danger, a dread which my therapist tells me is born out of a love stronger than the love I have for myself.

Before it’s too late, I want to capture the feeling of being here with you, existing in the world at the same time. I want to tell you how much I love you, but when you hold my hand in yours and say, don’t worry, everything is going to be okay, there’s a part of me that wants to believe you, there’s a part of me that wants to be unburdened by my need to look back in the direction of home, repeating the image I have in my mind of our lives as they were before we left.

Billie J Daniel is a new writer based in London, from a working-class background. He graduated from Central Saint Martins with a degree in Fine Art and currently works as a teaching assistant. In his time away from writing, he likes to go birding with his partner, play board games with his friends, and analyse his favourite sport, boxing. His work explores ideas of love, connection, anxiety, and trauma. See more at his site.