Steve Lancaster, 31, and Lacy White, 27, started dating two months ago. They met at a mutual friend’s Texas-themed birthday party downtown and hit it off right away.
Two dates later Lancaster took White out for Mexican food at Rosa Mexicana. After three rounds of margaritas and a rebellious shot of tequila he suggested they go back to his place so she could meet his Jack Russel Terrior, Bernard.
Fast forward a few hours the duo, naked and a bit sweaty, turned to face each other on Lancaster’s IKEA MALM double sized bed. “I like you.” said Lancaster as he gently wound her long blonde hair between his fingers. “I like you, too.” smiled White, trying to remember the last time she felt so comfortable with a man. “Goodnight” they both said to each other before kissing. She put her head down on his chest and the two lovers closed their eyes to go to sleep.
Thirty-seven seconds later White became alarmingly conscious of how much air was coming out of her face.
Her eyelids shot open as she realized just how much noise she was making each time she took in a breath. She lay there, eyes wide, rigid as a board, sharply aware of this gusty cacophony now filling the room. She then forgot how to organically breathe, and began making conscious decisions of when to consume air.
The noise wouldn’t stop. As the minutes ticked by every inhale was like a vortex sucking an airplane out of the sky, every exhale like passing a New York City construction vent on a hot summer’s day.
Visibly disturbed White described her experience. “I mean you live your life, you live your life and you just breathe. You just go about your day…you don’t think about it. But, Jesus fucking…I mean it was so…There I was, laying there, on his chest, breathing like that…I just knew he heard it. Or felt it. I didn’t know what to do. He was going to notice the breathing.”
At one point that night White tried to mend the situation by simply holding her breath. But because she’s alive she couldn’t keep that up for long. In fact, she ended up making even more noise when she was eventually forced to gasp for air.
Though his eyes were closed she became terrified he was freaking out about the apparent windmill with whom he was now sharing a bed. ‘Is he really asleep?’ she wondered as she looked up at his face, ‘Or is he just figuring out how to get away from this situation while feigning oblivion?’
“I eventually had to detach from the snuggle.” she revealed. “I had to turn over, assume the little spoon, and make sure his arm wasn’t in my exhale range. Things calmed down after that.”
The next morning Lancaster made no reference to White’s breathing whatsoever. He kissed her as they departed for work, and told her he’d text her later. Later ended up being 6:13PM which was annoying, but besides that all seemed to be fine.