Friday, October 4, 2013
My body feels sore. So sore that the only position I can stand is lying on my back in my bed while my eyes are staring at the ceiling. Urinating is a chore for it means getting up from bed and dragging myself to my toilet. I refuse to stand. I crawl. I crawl on all fours to the toilet. Finally, when I need to force myself to sit on the toilet seat, my body feels like a huge balloon that will explode when pricked. And then I imagine myself bursting. For no reason at all, my body becomes liquid and I become a pool of particles on my black floor.
I wake up. On my bed. A tray of food is before me. A voice tells me that it's been there for the past two hours. The soup's getting cold. The cold water's getting warm. I am getting hotter and hotter. I force myself to eat food I cannot taste and drink liquids which hurt my throat. They want to turn the lights on in my room. I blatantly refuse. They turn it on. I whine. Like a brat. The lights go off. I go to sleep.
I drift in and out of sleep. Veep is on. Modern Family is on. I listen. I sleep. My phone vibrates. People from college asking if I'm going to school. I reply and say I am sick. Their next few messages baffle me. They ask if I'm in school. They ask when I'll be back. When a person is sick, a person stays home. When a person is sick, they don't know when they'll be well. I stopped replying. Catastrophe.
My closest friends entertain me. They try to make me better. But I'm here and they're so far away. To make up for distance they call and talk while I fall asleep on them. They send me funny videos that makes me smile. They chat with me and I send them emoticons. I fall asleep and wake up to their messages reminding me why I have to get well and not give in to this sickness. They say life is good.
I'm not so sure about that.