Some days I
have to start from the beginning. I rise from sleep as if emerging from under
deep murky waters. I wait for my hazy vision to adjust, a good while before the
muck dust and stains are wiped off my tired sad eyes and I can see again. A throbbing
in my head, it is worse when it’s a cluster migraine, I can almost feel my
whole face slope to one side, sliding towards the pain. My left eye, the left
part of my lips even my nose is pulled to the right side of my face and is
pulsing, my deformed face bloating and shrinking, bloating and
shrinking with each agonizing beat. My heart is pressed under a massive heavy black
boot that stomps and stomps hard, a dull slow THUMP, THUMP, THUMP that shakes
my whole being and my limbs are achy and weak. Sadness leaves me soft and gooey
as if there were no muscles, no bones in me.
On days like
these I start from the beginning: Who am I? Why am I here? How old am I? Where
did I come from? Why am I still alive? My dry chapped pale lips part and I want
to say your name, as if your name will help me find myself, I remember that you
don’t love me anymore and I swallow, I swallow all my burning hot grief, like a fireball stuck in my throat, then the tears come and my tears are
hot too, etching their way down my cheeks like lava slithering down a mountain.
