Waving Not Drowning

He's not showing up. It's been over two months of I really want to I'll do my best What do you feel, What do you hope for? I want to plan a trip, I want to spend time together to I'll be in San Ysidro. The other side of the continent. The thunder explodes outside her window. She's new here. First storm. Let's see if everything holds. She'd been doing her best to ask for what she wanted but could sense a push pull from him. You here? I'm here. All in. Retract. Apologize, explain, go ahead. Now It's ultimatums and irritations. This is how I am to This doesn't work for me. An object in motion stays in motion. Until An outside force bigger than the primary driver diverts the energy and changes the direction. Slow down. Patience. Hold. Wait- no. Keep going. You do you, she says. She wonders where expectation lives. Three days. That's her rule. Get in, unpack, hang everything in it's proper place....

Suddenly, like a freight train pulling into the station, wheels squealing, this immovable weight comes crashing down on her, enveloping her entire body. Her organs hurt. Or is it her back? She can't differentiate between the pounding in her head, ears, chest, legs and stomach. Dysrhythmic, cacophonous, consuming. There is no comfort here. She tries to roll over, coax her cells back into a restful sleep but something triggers the gag reflex in the back of her throat. This is not good, this can not be good. If she breathes, just tries to focus on deep, cleansing breaths-no, wait, bad idea. Through the slits of her barely open eyelids she reads 5 am on the clock radio. Must Keep Sleeping. She's a kid all over again, imagining that this is all a bad dream; when she wakes up it will all be sunshine and fairytales, rainbows and kittens, and back to her old, active, healthy, take charge self. It hurts to roll over. Struggling to throw off the quilt then the duvet and finally the top s...