Status: Getting a Facelift
Symptoms of Life
What is Life?
“Are you alive? We haven’t heard anything?”
“What happened?”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“You can do other things in life. This isn’t everything.”
“You’ll get better soon.”
“Everything will be okay.”
“Drunk driver’s are stupid.”
“Your mother was a beautiful woman.”
“Babe, is everything okay? Your house is for sale. Where are you?”
“Girl, I’m so sorry. Where are you?”
“When you get this, text me?”
“I love you feel better.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Feel better.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It will work out.”
A loud sob ravaged the room while the phone hit the wall in full force. The sound shocked me to hell as I hit the ground weightlessly. I felt numb sitting up. Like fuck all, like nothing. I could feel my spine shift though as I sat back on my tailbone and rammed the back of my head into the bedframe. That felt like something. Bang, bang, bang. It didn't even feel like I had control of it like a train or a metronome it kept going and going repeatedly and my brain hoped as tirelessly as always that it'd end, or I'd wake up. Or that it would hurt. Whichever came first was fine.
A low hum snuck from my throat as the motion continued mechanically. I rocked, I hit, I swung back. My hands began to trail down my legs and small salty tears peeked out from my eyes as I shook, as my head hit, and as my hands inched slower and slower down my body, but not a single tear fell out to say hello. My fingers climbed slowly down the sides of my body feeling every fading surgical scar on the world's canvas of soft pale skin. My fingers, they slipped slowly over her hips and onto her thighs, then paused, just slightly.
They paused then, and I swallowed a breath with more effort then ever. The world shut out as my eyelids shut tightly and hands worked to finish their journey. The bruises and swelling had mostly all fade, but I could still feel every error. Every dent, misstep, and every hill and every everything.
My teeth latched onto my tongue while I fought a gasp, and my left hand reach the end of its journey. It touched nothing as the right continued, feeling its was across her knee and then right down her shin her foot. The left hand touched nothing though.
Because nothing was there.
“What happened?”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“You can do other things in life. This isn’t everything.”
“You’ll get better soon.”
“Everything will be okay.”
“Drunk driver’s are stupid.”
“Your mother was a beautiful woman.”
“Babe, is everything okay? Your house is for sale. Where are you?”
“Girl, I’m so sorry. Where are you?”
“When you get this, text me?”
“I love you feel better.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Feel better.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It will work out.”
A loud sob ravaged the room while the phone hit the wall in full force. The sound shocked me to hell as I hit the ground weightlessly. I felt numb sitting up. Like fuck all, like nothing. I could feel my spine shift though as I sat back on my tailbone and rammed the back of my head into the bedframe. That felt like something. Bang, bang, bang. It didn't even feel like I had control of it like a train or a metronome it kept going and going repeatedly and my brain hoped as tirelessly as always that it'd end, or I'd wake up. Or that it would hurt. Whichever came first was fine.
A low hum snuck from my throat as the motion continued mechanically. I rocked, I hit, I swung back. My hands began to trail down my legs and small salty tears peeked out from my eyes as I shook, as my head hit, and as my hands inched slower and slower down my body, but not a single tear fell out to say hello. My fingers climbed slowly down the sides of my body feeling every fading surgical scar on the world's canvas of soft pale skin. My fingers, they slipped slowly over her hips and onto her thighs, then paused, just slightly.
They paused then, and I swallowed a breath with more effort then ever. The world shut out as my eyelids shut tightly and hands worked to finish their journey. The bruises and swelling had mostly all fade, but I could still feel every error. Every dent, misstep, and every hill and every everything.
My teeth latched onto my tongue while I fought a gasp, and my left hand reach the end of its journey. It touched nothing as the right continued, feeling its was across her knee and then right down her shin her foot. The left hand touched nothing though.
Because nothing was there.
♠ ♠ ♠
So this is being restarted, again. This story began a year ago. Let's hope it's better this time around?