And the pain kept coursing through me. Like an artery severed, it hemorrhaged from my body like a river of blood. But only I could see the carnage.
Everyone else was blissfully oblivious to my raging river of agony. The clownish smile plastered across my face did not give me away.
People tend to see what they choose to see- I was passive and pleasant looking so no one would dig deeper.
The day was surreal- like a bizarre dream in which I was a robotic player.
I signed papers, made decisions, and performed menial tasks as if it were someone else doing it, in a most detached way.
Meanwhile I knew that I was alone, I would go home alone, get up alone, and do it all again tomorrow.
Maybe the pain would subside over time, maybe I would step back into my body someday, but for now, I would be a bystander to my own existence. All that was solid for me had crumbled.
I hurt, dammit, so bad. I was a raw, whirling tornado of emotions- intense love, hate, rage, jealousy, betrayal, and something else.
Not quite excitement, but something not quite as unpleasant as the rest. Why that feeling was intermingling with its negative counterparts is a mystery. But it was there, definitely there.
It felt a dim yellow glow in the darkest of nights.
I drove home in the dark, still in my numbed state.
I told myself I was happy to have the night to myself, not worrying about waiting for a phone call, not caring if anyone else’s needs were met. But I was not. Happy that is, just alone.
My phone’s buzzing shook me out of the trance and I sighed as I glanced at the display. It was my mother.
I told myself I would call her back as I declined the call while I also knew that I probably wouldn’t.
I fully acknowledged that I was in no state to make small talk, and she would pick up on that right away. Then she would want to talk. And I couldn’t.
So I will withdraw into myself until I feel whole again.