My calves are tired from all the walking I’ve done this week. Suddenly, the afternoon heat felt nothing compared to the pain I was feeling inside. It all started with Mother’s Day morning conversations at the breakfast table then it all went downhill from there. I almost decided to leave home and move out. Then I had to go to work while I was in a big mess. My emotional needs as a human being soared high as I felt that I wasn’t getting anything at all from anybody. I had nothing and I didn’t have anything to give anymore. I walked for hours everyday the whole week, trying to avoid the place I used to call ‘home’, trying to avoid almost begging for small conversations (that I always knew will never happen) and words of comfort from someone I needed the most at that time, trying to avoid the feeling of ’loneliness’ that suddenly multiplied itself by a thousand in less than 24 hours, trying to divert my attention onto lovely pieces of furniture that made me feel excited with the thought of getting my own place. The exhaustion I felt helped me get some sleep to escape everything even for just a couple of hours. I was so tired that I didn’t even have any dreams. It was pure sleep, the best kind. It was just black and silent, I wonder if death felt the same way?
The surgery I had last night was the best decision I had in months. It was the cherry on top of a bad week. I don’t think there could have been a better time to get the procedure done. I was awake the entire time and I covered my eyes with my forearm ‘cause the lights were too bright. It reminded me of noontime during summer minus heat. After four shots of local anesthesia, I felt nothing. Well, of course I could feel the incisions but there was no pain, there was only the feeling of a sharp metal object cutting it’s way through body tissue. I thought it was just like slicing vegetables; vegetables don’t have feelings. I held onto the side of the bed with my other hand as I tried to relax with deep breaths of oxygen that I didn’t think was present in the operating room. The fear of sudden physical pain took away the hurt I was feeling emotionally. The smell of my own burning flesh became all I could ever think of at that moment. I forgot how I hated the weather, I forgot how I didn’t care much about politics, I forgot the cabinet I saw and fell in love with, I forgot the person who mattered to me and how I will never matter the same way. I’m glad it’s over.
Now, I’m just trying to put the pieces back together.. imagine all my apologies and alibis lined up and ready to be delivered in envelopes to the people I’ve hurt, even to the ones that have hurt me. As I wait for my wounds to heal, the occasional feelings of sharp pain cannot be prevented. All I needed to do now was to let the suture do it’s job and close the cut. Real life was almost the same thing as surgery, but without a knife to open it up and a thread to sew it back together.
