The Calm

"They made us participate in their own madness, because we couldn't help but retrace their steps, rethink their thoughts, and see that none of them led to us. We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm" - The Virgin Suicides

Normality... is subjective

The night has come to an end. It's late, it's time to finally get some sleep.
You brush your teeth and smile at the mirror admiring how clean they look.
You wash your face and pat it dry feeling clean and refreshed.
You put on night cream and lip balm, brush your hair and place everything back on the counter.
You see a rubber band. It's new. It's clean. It's pretty.
You find a syringe, sealed.
You take them both in your hands, place the bowl lid down, sit and wrap the rubber band around your wrist.
You double it. It's tight. Very tight.
You let your arm hang. You slap it gently. You watch the veins rise to the skin
You touch them lightly... feeling the pulse
You take the syringe out... you undo the suction
There is a vein passing over your knuckles to your pinky finger. It's big
You touch it. You press it... you feel the resistance of the blood pressing back
You take the needle and position it firmly in your hand
You latch your fingers around the end and turn it so the hole is facing upwards
You place it on the vein... and push.
It pierces the skin. Effortlessly
Tiny stream of red flows into the cylinder. You are in.
You pull and watch the blood slowly flow out... and in.
You pump the needle in deeper. You feel no pain.
You pull for more blood and watch the cc's climb
You want more but there's only so much it can take.
This is not the movies. This is not a doctors office.
You pull out! The blood shoots out with massive force, leaking everywhere.
Your vein is open if only by a tiny hole.
You pull the band off, quickly and just watch the red liquid flow... and drip and drip...
And with a sudden urgency with no warning in sight, you clamp down the swollen vein and stop it!
Blood is leaking under the skin. It hurts now. You don't care
You take the syringe and face the mirror. You let the blood drip from it, drop by drop.
You watch it fall.... onto your hand, into the sink, onto a napkin, onto your face, onto your tongue...
Drop... Drop... Drop... You taste it
You draw a line of blood onto the mirror and watch it flow down
It doesn't go far... it thickens
You cannot get anymore out the syringe, blood coagulates too quickly.
This is not the movies. This is not a laboratory.
You throw it away.
You touch the blood on the mirror with your finger tips... and smear it on your lips
Red rosy lips. Blood red
You lick them.... suck them... bite them.
You wipe the mirror clean
You wash your hands. The vein is swollen. It's getting blue.
You press it, it hurts.
You smile. Time to sleep.
You watch the blue bruise travel down the vein as the hours and days go by.
You feel the pain.
You see it suffering and it's ok. Everything is ok.
 The hole is gone.
You are ok. Smile.

Wait, what?

I'm sitting here on a nice big comfortable chair, facing the windows on the east of my house. There's a little ornamental pepper plant in front of me and I'm watching the leaves and delicate little branches shaking... it's almost constant. For the first time since September 2nd, I am feeling breeze through this window, the way it should be, the way it used to be all my life living here.

I am sitting here feeling a mixture of sadness, disappointment and anger. My lips are sealed and breathing shallow... forehead and eyes tense. I'm trying hard not to let myself cry right now. *bites the inside of my bottom lip*

I'm sitting here and all that is running through my mind is:

"I'm just waiting, 

waiting, 

waiting, 

waiting, 

waiting, 

waiting,

waiting,

waiting,

waiting..."

That's all I'm doing. If my life was a book right now, the undercurrent theme that everything rides on would be an overwhelming sense of waiting. Patience is my virtue and my vice *sighs*