Stolen breath like when I was seven and running on the playground in winter. My asthma was bad then. The moment has continued on now for two hours and shows no sign of ending. "no news is good news." hah. Tell that to the families of 49 people who didn't get news. Tell that to the boy in bed with me, who had to call the airline because we got no news. His heart ripped from his chest because we trust that everyone will be safe most of the time and really have no use for worry. We're the ones other people worry about. We're the trouble makers. That split second that stretched into the better half of a week. A week that felt like another world, new jersey really is that far from everything else. And how my hands went numb and my head hurt because it was too much work to keep everything still. That was the instant I realized I need to worry too. And now I worry too much.
And here I am worrying and wondering and hoping and really not hoping at all because hopes up means dashed hopes and I never get my hopes up so instead my mind goes to the worst possible outcome which means I'm crazy and all I want to say is I love you and I didn't get to. Death is the scariest for those left behind. It would be awful to not get your chance and die young but you're not conscious of it after you die. The ones left here are the true sufferers. Or maybe we're just selfish.
I don't know but either way there are knots in my digestive system and a headache rolling in like thunder clouds because I just found out that you're okay and I feel guilty for being such a bother.
No comments:
Post a Comment