the human touch
Last night we slept with a warm summery breeze blowing through the room, smelling the blossoms that that have covered our trees and listening to the wind sift its way through the bamboo stands out back... and somehow the pollen in the air or something caused me to develop this tiny little bud of hope that I could participate in a normal human activity, so when Anne-Marie went to the Portland Nursery today I went with her. I figured we could at least pretend that we were two ordinary happy people who are working together to build a home, choosing with care the little twigs and buds that will grow, as we will grow, over the years in which we call this place our home.
'If the pain kicks in, I can always go sit in the car and read', I thought. Well, the pain did kick in, and the cramping and that feeling like something is literally gnawing at my guts kicked in too, and now, after Anne-Marie has returned me to my home and the puking and shaking and cold sweats have stopped, for the most part, I am lying in bed watching the winds tease the bamboo out back and I do not feel any hope, I do not feel human, and I sometimes find myself missing the good old days in the past when I didn't feel at all. I know, in my head, how much better my life has been since I learned how to feel again, but there's this sensation that is literally at the core of me, deep within me, this tiny ball of pain that sometimes grows and grows until it engulfs me, and I've had to learn to smile, to pretend I think tomorrow is going to be different, to make plans (like building a home or planting trees) that take the future into account, that at least simulate defiance of this thing that has eaten my life, even though I do not feel that I have the strength to fight it forever.
Anyway, that's how my day went.
Feeling the need for some human contact, I fired up the email and received incontrovertible proof that Somebody Out There Loves Me... in this case, it was the meticulous care and attention to detail shown by the Penis People, who today in three separate emails promised me the trifecta of 'Length', 'Girth', and the somewhat more mystical and elusive 'Power'. Chicks, they assure me, will dig it. I declined all of the offers, but now as I lie down to nap away the rest of today's pain I am comforted by the knowledge that somebody out there has my best interests in mind.
'If the pain kicks in, I can always go sit in the car and read', I thought. Well, the pain did kick in, and the cramping and that feeling like something is literally gnawing at my guts kicked in too, and now, after Anne-Marie has returned me to my home and the puking and shaking and cold sweats have stopped, for the most part, I am lying in bed watching the winds tease the bamboo out back and I do not feel any hope, I do not feel human, and I sometimes find myself missing the good old days in the past when I didn't feel at all. I know, in my head, how much better my life has been since I learned how to feel again, but there's this sensation that is literally at the core of me, deep within me, this tiny ball of pain that sometimes grows and grows until it engulfs me, and I've had to learn to smile, to pretend I think tomorrow is going to be different, to make plans (like building a home or planting trees) that take the future into account, that at least simulate defiance of this thing that has eaten my life, even though I do not feel that I have the strength to fight it forever.
Anyway, that's how my day went.
Feeling the need for some human contact, I fired up the email and received incontrovertible proof that Somebody Out There Loves Me... in this case, it was the meticulous care and attention to detail shown by the Penis People, who today in three separate emails promised me the trifecta of 'Length', 'Girth', and the somewhat more mystical and elusive 'Power'. Chicks, they assure me, will dig it. I declined all of the offers, but now as I lie down to nap away the rest of today's pain I am comforted by the knowledge that somebody out there has my best interests in mind.
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