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Alex is tired, no not tired, exhausted. For a while he thought it just came with the territory after all being FSOTUS was hard work. But over the days, months and years it became apparent to Alex that his family didn’t feel exhaustion in the same way he did. It wasn’t something that sat deep in their bones lying vaguely dormant, always there but easier to work through on some days. He’d come to the realization that June, Nora and his mother Ellen didn’t require days rotting in bed in order to recover from a fun night out with friends.
Then he’s thought it was just burn out, something he heard was quite common in people with ADHD and ADD. But the exhaustion he felt was different. The heavy cloud he had come accustomed to didn’t lie in his head forcing exhaustion yet the undeniable urge to fidget. What he’d begun to feel left him unable to move, his hyperactive mind trapped in his uncooperative body. Allowing him to overthink and catastrophize about all the things that could possibly be wrong with Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz.
Despite his constant catastrophizing Chronic Fatigue Syndrome had never once been something he’d been worried about. As a matter of fact it wasn’t even something alex knew existed. Funny how the world works like that. One day your playing, baseball and softball and football and soccer the next Aelx’s legs feel so heavy he can’t even stand.
And of course coming across a diagnosis had been as gruesomely slow as Alex’s body sometimes moved. It took years to finally get a proper diagnosis. First it was burn out from his ADHD, something Alex had already diagnosed by the time he was fifteen. Next it was depression, something Alex had also already thought through. Then from his therapist it was left over emotions from his parents’ divorce the dumbest excuse of them all. Said that psychological factors could trigger something like what Alex was experiencing. Alex’s therapist was of course right.
His parents’ divorce had started early really. From as far back as Alex could remember his parents had always fought. Gentle barbs at first so slight they could almost be considered teasing. Then those slights turned into barbs and jabs. Then arguments and someone sleeping on the couch. Next thing he knew Oscar was barely in the house opting to stay with his childhood best friend Rafael Luna who would only come to make arguments worse between Alex’s parents.
All of that put on the shoulders of an elementary schooler was enough to introduce Alex to anxiety at a fairly young age. As most kids tended to think, at east according to his therapist anyway. Alex thought he might’ve been the problem. Too loud in class, too disruptive, maybe his grades simply weren’t good enough. Was it his lack of hobbies, too many? And so it had started. The moments where he was unable to catch his breath and the apparently toxic talent of being able to hide it from his family and friends.
Come middle school, Oscar, Alex’s father had moved out entirely and his mother had met a man named Leo. His parents were still married of course and as far as Alex was concerned still in love. Alex was wrong. Alex hated being wrong. And so the depression started and the burn out worsened. It almost makes Alex laugh now. Looking back on it he’d return to middle school in a heartbeat if it meant he was still able to walk properly. Okay so maybe not middle school but early college at least. That’s when his parents had finally figured out their shit. Unfortunately for Alex that’s also when it had started.
So yeah maybe psychological factors had played a part. Maybe they’d played the entire part actually. But Alex isn’t thinking about that now. Right now Alex has a date and a hot one in fact. A date with one Henry Edward James Moutrchristen Windsor Fox or whatever stupid order his insane amount of names went in.
They’d been dating for nearly a year now, if sex via emails could even be called that. In Alex’s eyes he and Henry had technically only been dating since Henry had given him his ring. So about a few months. And even then he and Henry hadn’t really gotten the time to actually date with the emails being leaked and his mom’s reelection. So it made sense of course that Alex hadn’t yet gotten to tell Henry, the love of his life, that he was chronically ill.
And yeah, so what Henry and Alex had moved in with each other? They’d had better things to worry about at the time, like unpacking and deciding where each painting should go. Alex had left his fair share of pink sticky notes and written in cursive “Hang painting here?” but of course Henry had always found a different, more perfect spot.
Okay fine! Maybe Alex was stalling but could you really blame him? Alex didn’t owe Henry anything, it’s not like they had been dating dating. Especially not with everything that had happened in the past year. If anything it could be considered a situationship, one that much to Alex’s relief had finally become romantic.
Not that any of that mattered anyway. This date was going to be a fresh start for the both of them. And Alex be damned was not going to ruin their first official date by complaining about how tired he was.
Alex sighs and adjusts his tie. It’s colored of course for he, unlike Henry has taste. Impeccable taste, afterall he’s dating the spare to the throne.
A knock sounds downstairs at the door and Alex rolls his eyes, fondness growing in his chest. Henry, like the gentlemen he was , of course basically demanded that he pick up Alex like a gentleman. If Alex knew his boyfriend, which he did there would probably be flowers awaiting him downstairs.
Alex smiles in the mirror, willing it to reach his eyes and shudders out a breath. Everything is fine, Alex is fine. At least he can pretend to be.