Long time no post. Just decided to take stab at this. New territory for me. Be merciful…
I’ve been watching chic flicks all friggin’ week. I’m normally a sci-fi, senseless shooter kind of guy. Like when I’m really moody, I just watch thrillers and horror flicks and be done with it.
“The Exorcist” got me through a really rough patch. Losing a prized mobile phone to pick-pockets could be devastating but nothing that couldn’t be solved by watching a child hurl the vilest curses at a priest. Good times.
And now? I’m fine.
No really, its not a problem. Yes, she left me only recently. Yes, I bragged that she was the one. Yes, she probably WAS the one. Yes, I have slight hallucinations most mornings now. I see her, I touch her, I smell her, I sense her, I long for her. Bla, blabbity bla. My rom-com binge is probably catching up with me though. I’m not speaking all these things from my heart. I’m not unfurling my innermost, truest feelings as you may think. That ought to serve me right for watching “The Notebook” thrice a day. Next thing you know, I’ll be writing letters every week for a year to her. Tufia! Quasi-negros puh-leaase. Told you before, I’ll tell y’all again:
I mean… Granted, the constellations have conspired to pull us apart. No, it wasn’t my fault. I did nothing wrong. Curious, isn’t it? I’m normally the one who has messed up. Well it wasn’t her fault either. I’m not willing to get into it. I’m not in denial. Fuck you for that! What’s it to you anyway? It just became too hard. For her, maybe for me. I don’t know.
What I do know…
Is that I’m fine.
I mean it stings like 45 battalions of jelly-fish are having a nibble-party on my genitals but then that’s no big deal. What? I have tears in my eyes? So? I had them in my eyes when I was four. Who says I’ve aged all that? Look, it’s not even tears you see. It’s sweat. All this stress has made me start to perspire more. I’m wiping it all off now. Can’t you see….?
What now? My sobbing? Am I sobbing? Oh dear. Sounds like I am. Well maybe the emotions I masked from watching “Million Dollar Baby” just came flooding back. It was a really sad movie. Watched in error, I promise. The guy at the rental gave me the wrong flick. I asked for WrestleMania. Too lazy to return it. I promise you also…
That I’m fine.
I SAID I’M FINE NAH! I’M FINE!!! I’M NOT LOSING IT. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO IS LOSING IT! QUIT TELLING ME I’M YELLING. I KNOW MY VOICE CAN BE LOUD SOMETIMES BUT I’M NOT YELLING! NO, I’M NOT SAD OR MOPING OR MOURNING. SHE LEFT. SO WHAT? SO BLEEDING WHAT??? DOES IT EVEN CONCERN YOU? I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING HERE WITH ALL THESE INTRUSIVE QUESTIONS YOU’RE ASKING ME. GET OUT OF MY SPACE. LIKE I’VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES IN THE SPACE OF A FEW FUCKING MINUTES…
I’m alone but in a crowded space. No one around me but I feel enclosed. I’m shut out from the world they claim to have let me into. This bed is so cold. I look at the alarm clock/thermometer on the bedside table. 30 degrees.
How come I’m shivering? How did I get here? There’s a cup of something that looks like it’s supposed to be hot beside the alarm clock/thermometer. I doubt any of it has gotten inside me. I feel so cold. So alone. And so cold again.
I’m closing my eyes now. Trying not to think. Or feel. Or sense. They must have put me in here. I have no memory of crawling onto this soulless, detached mattress. Did I pass out? Oh dear.
Then the pain.
It’s like an empty pain. There’s no feeling on that spot. Numbness. But it still hurts an incredible lot. I almost pass out again from the sheer intensity. I’m shivering now. Powerful tremors coursing through the entirety of my being. Unwittingly, my head crashes into the headboard. Not unlike what reality did to my dreams.
I’m not fine.