One Morning's Conversation with Self

Staring into the steamy mirror, he raises his head and addresses himself.

“Am I losing you, young man?”

“The chances are strong.”

With a hand to each side of the mirror, he reaches out and leans against the wall beyond the sink. Looking up again, he stares long into his own eyes and takes into account all he sees. Glancing from side to side, he spots it.

A simple piece of rubber and twine. Black in color. Not worth more than a few cents at the market, it means the world to him. He takes a deep breath and stifles the sobs that lie just below the surface. He can’t seem to take his eyes away from the simple band.

Looking back into the mirror, he sees the depth of what he feels lying just below the glint in his eyes that he uses to hide the pain. It doesn’t always work and he knows it. It sometimes becomes hard for him to carry all he has. He knows that it’s not the most anyone has ever carried. But, it’s the most he ever has. And sometimes that weight wears on him. And he fails to cover up all that boils just below the surface. It’s those times that the simple band comes into play.

He pops it on his wrist and uses that pain to redirect his mind. It’s a Pavlovian attempt at reminding himself to remember the good in his life. In those moments when the darkness falls so heavy, the band seems to be the only thing that brings the light back. That, and where it came from.

He allows his mind to go back just seven days. A moment of deep grief that had him devastated beyond his ability to understand. He had completely lost the aura of himself in the great nature of his loss. In that moment of loneliness, a special person broke through. She barely said a word, knowing that words were not necessary. She cradled him and held on to him tightly, trying so very hard to remind him that he was still important, that he still had friends who cared so much for him. He normally has a very tough time accepting this kind of attention. He has spent a life time hearing that wasn’t worthy of anything like that. Unwilling to give as much, he rarely received.

“She cares about you, stupid. What more did you expect?”

The answer couldn’t come. It existed, he just couldn’t say them. In times of weakness, he just couldn’t bare them. He lowered his eyes and stared into the sink, his mind traveling back those seven days again.

Hours of comfort helped him more than she will ever realize. As the time for her to leave approached, he feared letting her go. He knew it wasn’t permanent. But, what he was learning is that with all the permanent losses in his life, it was the temporary ones that were hurting him most. And he knew that this one was going to be as hard as any he had ever experienced. She was becoming his lifeline to himself. She probably didn’t realize that she had signed up for the job. No one ever does. But, finding herself there, she rose to the occasion. Her sympathy, grace, and inner beauty had acted as a bandaid, covering the open wound in his heart and gave him hours of peace he didn’t think was possible. He just didn’t want it to end. He just didn’t want to let it go. He feared the silence that the loss of her breathing would provide when she walked out that door. The vacuum that would be created when he could no longer feel her heart beat. When those eyes would no longer be close enough to help him find a way out.

He spotted it on her wrist about an hour or so before she left. He still isn’t sure why he asked. It’s not his way to want to take from anyone. He just couldn’t stop himself.

“Can I have that?”

She quickly agreed. Probably not sure why she was asked. Who would want something that can be bought for a dollar a dozen? He would. It was hers. It was a part of her. He placed it on his wrist and brought his hands to his face to hide the dread in his eyes. Her scent hit him. Filled his senses and lifted his spirit. The band was covered in it. Such a small thing, to have so much.

After she left, he crawled onto the couch for a couple of days. As a matter of fact, except when working, it’s pretty much where he spent all his time. It’s where she had been last. He just kept lying there trying to feel her embrace again. When his heart would swell with sorrow, he would pull on the band and allow it to snap to his skin. The pain would bring his mind back around and give him something to focus on instead of the pain in his soul. Those snaps saved him. Those snaps kept him from being swallowed up in the river of grief that threatened to wash over him. He used it to keep his head above the water. Allowed him the chance to reach deep down and take a cleansing breath. Sometimes it was enough to bring him back to himself. Sometimes it just got his head above the waves.

He placed it on his left wrist. Closest to his heart. He wanted it to be where he could see it when he needed to, but close to his center to feed it with the courage and strength it promised him. A few have asked about it, wondering why he would have it. He doesn’t try to explain. Doesn’t think they would understand. They would make it something that it wasn’t. Some lame attempt to hold onto a dream that was never going come true. He didn’t see it that way. He saw it as the continuation of the comfort she provided her friend. He saw it as a piece of something more beautiful than anything in his life. The friendship that had been born meant more to him than he could ever explain. More than even he was willing to admit to himself in times of longing for her. He knows, in his right mind, he would do nothing to risk it. No matter his heart. No matter the love he carried inside. The friendship was too valuable to put in the pot and risk on the roll of the dice. He still could feel this small, numbered cubes in his hands. And the temptation to throw them was strong. But, he held onto them. Forcing himself to see the bigger picture. Forcing himself to remember what was best. He knew that what he felt was never going to leave him. But, he also knew that he had to carry that on his own. And he would. For her. For her grace. For that, the dice remain stilled. The toss never made.

After many showers, the scent is gone. He just couldn’t remove it. He feels it would be like letting go of the lifeline that keeps him afloat. His thinking is that in using this small piece of her, he won’t apply more pressure to their friendship than it can stand. Although she tells him she won’t let him fall, he doesn’t want to risk the chance that his needs could do anything to destroy what fate has brought to him. He realizes the gift. One that he is grateful for. In this moment, he senses her thoughts…knowing that somewhere…in this moment…she thinks of him. She worries for him. And he feels the emotion start to rise again.

Leaving the bathroom, he snaps the band again. No pain to remove this time. No grief to force back that would allow him to face the day. Simply to remember and feel the warmth again. And with that in his heart, he continues.