Yellow
I’ve made a terrible mistake. In my enjoyment of this new writing, I’ve gone back in search of the old. I’ve opened old wounds in old words. I’ve relived some of the most traumatic moments of my life in an hour. I feel unbalanced, as though I have undone all the years of hard work to reframe, to patch holes, to sturdy my foundation. In an instant I am back where I was, and only in closing the screen can I banish that back.
They swirl around my head. Moments locked in posts, moments I can remember too clearly again. “I shouldn’t have done this, not today. I’m not well enough to hunt demons. I have invited them to rise.” I’m struggling with my pulse in my neck, my mind beginning with whirl dangerously. It’s panic and it’s pain, and I’ve done it to myself.
The doorbell rings, and I can see the delivery truck. I can’t answer the door this way, he’ll think I’m crazy. I wait until he pulls away, and I take deep breathes. I’m safe, I’m home. It’s 2018 and I’m solidly here. The cats stare at me as if I have lost my mind. I pace the floor a few times, the hurricane in my head building higher. One single thought forms. “Get the package. Just bring it inside.”
So I do, expecting it to bear Matt’s name. A text book or teaching supplies. But I’m shocked to see mine. I haven’t ordered anything in weeks. It’s not from someone, it’s been ordered...
I pull the package open as I walk to my kitchen table. My table, in my home. Yes, this is all mine, I’m safe. The end comes open and out tumbles yellow. Lotion, flowers, a tiny book.. all yellow. The hurricane stops so fast it’s as if I’ve tripped a breaker. I stare blankly for a moment and then it’s tears. Joy. Absolute gratitude. I’ve dropped the package to the table, covering my mouth with trembling hands.
His text from earlier makes sense. I text him, I gather the things to me and I feel them all, hugging them to my chest. I call my husband and cry. He thinks I’m hurt. He thinks maybe I’ve fallen again. I get it out what I’ve done, and what has arrived and he chuckles. He knows I’m feeling a lot, that I’m so touched that it’s all coming out in sobs. After a few moments and Matt’s help to right myself, I’m steady again. The tears end, the past recedes like an ebbing tide. There is only yellow now.
It’s from him and her. They thought of me. They found these things and sent them to me, and the universe in it’s chaos still found a way for it to land at my door on a day like today. They meant to cheer me up from my illness, but it did so much more.
I am alive, and I am in an amazing place. The past is firmly in the past. And I have more love than I ever believed I’d feel. I’m lucky, and for just one moment I don’t have to be anything more.
They swirl around my head. Moments locked in posts, moments I can remember too clearly again. “I shouldn’t have done this, not today. I’m not well enough to hunt demons. I have invited them to rise.” I’m struggling with my pulse in my neck, my mind beginning with whirl dangerously. It’s panic and it’s pain, and I’ve done it to myself.
The doorbell rings, and I can see the delivery truck. I can’t answer the door this way, he’ll think I’m crazy. I wait until he pulls away, and I take deep breathes. I’m safe, I’m home. It’s 2018 and I’m solidly here. The cats stare at me as if I have lost my mind. I pace the floor a few times, the hurricane in my head building higher. One single thought forms. “Get the package. Just bring it inside.”
So I do, expecting it to bear Matt’s name. A text book or teaching supplies. But I’m shocked to see mine. I haven’t ordered anything in weeks. It’s not from someone, it’s been ordered...
I pull the package open as I walk to my kitchen table. My table, in my home. Yes, this is all mine, I’m safe. The end comes open and out tumbles yellow. Lotion, flowers, a tiny book.. all yellow. The hurricane stops so fast it’s as if I’ve tripped a breaker. I stare blankly for a moment and then it’s tears. Joy. Absolute gratitude. I’ve dropped the package to the table, covering my mouth with trembling hands.
His text from earlier makes sense. I text him, I gather the things to me and I feel them all, hugging them to my chest. I call my husband and cry. He thinks I’m hurt. He thinks maybe I’ve fallen again. I get it out what I’ve done, and what has arrived and he chuckles. He knows I’m feeling a lot, that I’m so touched that it’s all coming out in sobs. After a few moments and Matt’s help to right myself, I’m steady again. The tears end, the past recedes like an ebbing tide. There is only yellow now.
It’s from him and her. They thought of me. They found these things and sent them to me, and the universe in it’s chaos still found a way for it to land at my door on a day like today. They meant to cheer me up from my illness, but it did so much more.
I am alive, and I am in an amazing place. The past is firmly in the past. And I have more love than I ever believed I’d feel. I’m lucky, and for just one moment I don’t have to be anything more.
Comments
Post a Comment