-Be still my beating heart and do not break, she whispers
to herself.
She stares at her reflection in the mirror.
Where is it?
Where is the gaping wound that is hurting her so much?
Why can't she see it?
How is it possible to be hurting so much without
there even being the slightest physical sign of a wound, a cut,
or a something....anything?
She moves closer to the mirror and stares into her
own eyes.
Is this me? Who is me? I don't recognize this face.
Where did I go?
She closes her eyes. They are burning. Smarting.
She sits down on her bed with a heavy sigh.
-Why do I feel so tired and heavy all the time, she asks herself.
She opens her eyes and looks out through her bedroom window.
Only a thin pane of glass is separating her from a burgeoning
natural world yet she feels unmoved by the cawing birds,
the swaying trees and the clear blue sky.
I should get dressed, she tells herself.
-Gone are the days when getting dressed was enjoyable, she
mutters to herself.
Listlessly she opens the wardrobe door.
She grabs her comfy jeans, a white t-shirt and
puts them on.
Her back is aching, she has a searing headache, and
lately......toothache.
Dressed, she tiptoes down the steps to the kitchen.
Moving as stealthy as possible she turns on the coffee machine,
pours some milk in her Betty Blue mug, heats it in the
microwave and then.......waits for the cat.
-Life sux but fresh coffee makes it suck a little less, she thinks.
Bang. And then a louder bang. Then BANG!
-Hang on Lovecraft, I'm coming, she says to the cat.
Lovecraft gobbles her food and five minutes later she's
back outside again.
Sipping her big mug of coffee she can feel herself
tensing her body. Her heartrate is speeding up, her breathing
getting faster and her anxiousness rapidly rising.
Soon. Soon he will come down the steps and whoever
I am or try to be, I must now... become.
I must become the comforter, the problem solver, the driver,
the parent, the carer, the nurse, the researcher, the
strong one, the patient one, the ever-loving one,
the Mother who never ever gives up on her sick son.
She takes a deep breath and tries to calm.
-Calma, calma, she tells herself.
As she is sipping the last drops of her coffee
he enters the living room.
-Hello, how are you?
-I have hardly slept at all, he says.
-I'm sorry to hear that, she returns.
Groaning in pain as he walks into the kitchen,
he starts to prepare his breakfast.
-Is there anything I can do? she asks him.
-There's nothing anyone can do, he answers.
She wants to scream ''Of course there is!''
but she just shrinks inside herself and remains silent.
She has learnt the hard way that he is not receptive
to ''pep'' talks.
-I need to go to the shops, do you need anything? she asks him.
-Tobacco, can you get me some?
-Sure, I'll get you some.
She grabs her bag and gets into her car.
As she starts driving she decides to drive to
the beach first.
Sitting in the car parked in front of the majestic Pacific ocean,
she begins to cry.
Then, with nobody around,
she screams as loud as she can into the white noise.
To love, can be hard.
To love, can be painful.
To love, can be frustrating.
To love, can be alienating.
To love, can be debilitating.
And yet,
love we must.
(Citizen Z)
about the image: edited photo shot with an old analogue Pentax
*At the moment my son and I are going through an extremely
difficult time. Though this post is deeply personal,
my guess is that there may be some of you who
may be experiencing something similar.
If so, know that you're not alone.
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