literature

the days are easier, with you

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Literature Text

most days are easy enough for me, if only because i have gotten so good at ignoring everything, namely my emotions and problems.
i'm not saying i have problems, although some people will say that i do. i decided long ago that i am probably fine and that if there is something wrong with me, it is not for me to decide.
there's a reason for that. people tell me it is denial, but no, i have a reason. if nothing else i am a highly logical person.
if i am left to my own devices and i let myself think of what all has happened i will end up having one of ay-mee's infamous breakdowns. and ay-mee has had enough of those. she is tired of them, damn it.
so i have gotten myself a team of doctors together and i have let them decide things for me. i let them decide what i can handle and what is wrong and how to go about fixing it. and i let them fix it. i let them give me prescriptions and i take the pills just as it says. if they say, 'ehmea, you need to stop working for a while. you need to quit your job,' i will probably listen to them and do just that.
and because of me letting them do my life for me, most days are easy enough. i can ignore it all and sit at a coffee house and read about dorothy parker, and that is that.
but some days it rains a little harder than others. sometimes the air i breathe is a little thicker and it is hard to remember just how to walk.
some days i remember when i was fifteen and my father attacked me with a butcher knife and left me with a scar down my back.
or else i will remember when i was beaten on a side street and some boy broke my ribs and tibia.  they took my wallet, too, and that bothered me most. the love letter you wrote me was tucked into my wallet. i still remember parts but i no longer remember how you had signed my name.
those days i must get home quickly, lock the door, and sit on the floor until i remember how to breathe. maybe it will pass in a few hours but most likely i will have to call my boss, say, 'i need a few days off. i'll work next weekend for you,' and i will mean that, but she will say, with sympathy in her voice, 'no, aimee. it's fine. come in when you can.'
i don't want that. i want her to tell me, 'ami, no. you get your act together and you show up here tomorrow morning ready to work.' but she never will because she knows what i have gone through and she feels sad for me.
something about my past makes people lose all expectations for me. as soon as they know even a part of it they will back down, let me get away with anything that i like. i don't mean for it to happen- it is not what i want to happen. i want people to have even higher expectations. i am still a person and i can still function. i still want to function.
i am getting a little better. most days are easier than they were two years ago. i am alone but i have these doctors and they are keeping me alive and, i think, they are fixing me.
but it is up to me to let other people know that i am still functional and not just another broken ornament.
i made up my mind a long time ago to pretend the past is not a real thing
ironic, huh?
this is all very true. i have an appointment with my team of doctors tomorrow, in the middle of finals week. they have insisted and do not seem to understand that i must study. but they insist and i trust them, so i will be there at four in the evening.
i read some more of :iconconsolecadet:'s writing and that combined with my rather dark day produced this.
i am tired and i should be studying arabic and biochemistry. instead i will post this and listen to cat power.
© 2011 - 2024 Wynfor
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