dark_tunnel_by_mgren322 deviant art

dark_tunnel_by_mgren322 deviant art

Anxiously sitting in the sterile smelling doctor’s office, I wait for answers.  Mouth dry, heart racing, I think of other things that make life more pleasant.  My dog, traveling, the love of my life, my child.  The doctor enters and I smile, knowing that this is like when someone feels constant joy that keeps them paralyzed.  I eagerly wait for her words, now bouncing in my seat.

 

“I’m afraid we do not know what is happening to your body,” the doctor says, her tone all business, but a tinge of empathy shows in her eyes as if she is trying to make the situation seem not so bleak.  There are no answers for me today.  No answers like when you ask a weird question that no one wants to comment on.

Here comes the darkness of fear, the unknown hopelessness that comes when you think your favorite fairy tale won’t end well.  I struggle for composure, my hands shaking like a person about to accept a marriage proposal.  My will is weakening; it is slowly shredding and coming apart, like the meat in a Chipotle burrito.

I am a strong woman, but the darkness drowns me until I fight for air.  There is no light at the end of this tunnel.  Only the train coming at full speed.  Nothing but more darkness, pulling me down; it’s a brick attached to my leg that I drag along with me wherever I go.

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