The Love Affair

Pain and I are having a love affair. It is, at times, abusive, not wanting me to enjoy the beautiful sunshine or walk out to smell the sea air at the beach.

Pain is a jealous lover, and she will not allow you to spend memorable time with anyone but her. When she wraps you in her grip, it is impossible to break. She holds on just tight enough to leave you exhausted in the daily struggle.

There are those moments when you awake in the morning, and she is not under the covers with you. You smile to yourself, thinking you will sneak out for coffee and conversation with friends. You shower, get dressed, and just as you head for the door, a bolt of lightning makes you stumble. Neuropathy shatters your mood. You decide you will muscle through it; you need to get out, to ignore the pain. Then she pulls the Fibromyalgia card on you. Suddenly, the weight of the world has landed on your shoulders. Silently, you spin around and fall onto the couch. Pain has beat you again. You took your pills; you got a good night’s sleep, though you tossed and turned most of the night. It was better than the previous four. You go to your bathroom and take a stronger pill, a narcotic. Now you can’t go out because you will be under the influence. Under the influence of pain or narcotics, you might ask? You don’t have to call your friends. They know if you don’t show up; the pain has blocked the door and bitch slapped you back into her clutches. You crawl back into bed and wonder if you will ever escape this lover who offers no love. All you have is pain, your pills, time, and your words. Oh, and your cellphone which you despise. When it rings, it reminds you of things you can no longer do. Today was almost a good day, and if you had not dropped the cup, you could have snuck out and enjoyed the spring air. Instead, you cannot breathe in the grip of a love affair you have tried to divorce many times before. You walk to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. so close to being broken, tears well in your eyes, and you blink to clear your vision. You look in the mirror again, and behind your eyes, you glimpse pain sneering at you with the most insidious smirk ever. Your face is a mask as you cry openly. Your tears flow freely. Pain takes pride in making you cry. She will never let you go. For a moment, you glimpse who you were, and another bolt of lightning rides across your shoulders. Pain does not want you to remember the good times before her.

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