Companion
Wednesday, Jan. 14, 2004 at 11:05 A.M.
Your head is spinning. Your heart is racing. Crying seems like the only solution, but it fails in its promise to solve everything. Anything. Your head tells you this is so stupid; so childish, not logical, but you can�t stop it.
Nothing is wrong. No one has died. No one has hurt you. Everything is normal, yet you can�t stop crying. Your friends notice the red eyes and ask a cursory, �Are you OK?� and seem satisfied with the quiet, �Yes� that floats back to them as you turn away. You can�t look at them and answer. There is nothing they can do, so why should you bother them?
If you keep your momentum up long enough, you don�t have to deal with it. Don�t stop to reassess, or breathe, because it will catch up with you. This thing. This dark self that never leaves your side.
You�ve hidden it for so long you almost forgot it was there. Almost.
You�ve hidden it so well from the people around you, that these people you spend so much time with have never seen it. They think you are having a bad day. Bad week? They don�t know this is the one thing you can always count on.
You don�t feel sad � Sad is not the right word. Pensive, anxious, tired, unsettled, frustrated. Sad is too small a word to encompass it all. Sad implies there was a cause. Sad is a reaction. This is not a reaction. This is how you face every day.
Something pulls you under. Sometimes you can resurface for days, months. Sometimes it takes all of your strength to get to the surface for just one breath, before you are pulled back, pounded by the currents, pummeled to exhaustion.
bEfOrE ~ AftEr
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