The Death Of A Living Corpse

Sharp, twisted, gnarled fingers pointing up from their grave like skeletons

 

buried alive. They point from empty sockets glaringly without eye balls, clang and make a hollow. rattling noise. As if they were not here in the cemetery but above from the crumbling yellow ceiling.

They want to attack me, anything of me, worming their way into my brain and every patch of skin. This is how you make me feel, you get to me like no one else. You always had that capacity you just covered it up with charm. But not from me, fire ants slip under my skin, itching, burning, scattering.

The throngs of white rodents biting wire, wood, any material to get free, gnawing every which way to go even deeper under the once soft layers of my skin.

All of a sudden you have turned on me, licking your lips. I am the one who is hateful, crazy, contradictory? You are telling ME that? My fingers and toes are burning with fire, a fire that has gotten out of hand. It has spread to every limb, every DNA molecule.

I see from afar my hair is in red-orange flames. No, I didn’t put myself on fire playing with matches, this is arson; a talent you have always had without a shadow of a doubt. You play with fire often, I used to blow out the evidence for you but not anymore.Never again.

I am no longer the one who will protect you when you are lit up like a Christmas tree,

English: A Christmas Tree at Home

lights wrapped around your head. At those times you were so kind to me, warm, streaking through the streets, waiting for your get-away car. But, only then.

I will not help you anymore,  I took care of you all my life, I had no teenage years, went straight from childhood to adulthood without even a whisper of gratitude, just attitude.

Leave me alone now. Don’t talk to me in your premeditated voice that has struck other people  before. Of course I am not innocent either, but mine is not planned like yours, wrong yes, but not premeditated. You are a poisonous snake that has struck again; one of your dear friends spent years in therapy because of you. I was loyal to you, defended you.You tossed her out of your life like she was the rotting garbage in the smelly city streets that had not just collected after a long brutal summer weekend.

You don’t think about anyone’s feelings, you blurt things out because the only feelings that matter to you are your own. Let others clean up your messes.You have no filter, no filter, no filter.

I will be polite, in front of others but I will not allow you to talk like that to me again. .You have gone too far. For years I have wanted to get you out of my life, why live with such abuse and negativity and drama? But, you, persevered and I let you. Stupid me, I wanted peace.

You may be charming to others, outsiders. but you are not loveable. You have no interest in old friends? What are you hiding? People have asked me what was behind that and I gave no explanation but it is odd. Sectioning off people like little girls with their sweet smiling sections of hair.

This fire cannot be put out, you went too far. I will hurt nobody on purpose but again, that was on your agenda, not mine. I don’t care why, I care that I no longer stay in this imitation of a relationship with you.

Of course, I can play the game too, but not for you. Never for you. For the only person that matters.  I gave and gave to you and what did I get back? Nothing, nothing that wasn’t engineered for you. You were never my friend, but I never expected that. Friendships share trust.

I have nothing else to give you, you have built yourself a trap, it’s only time that will keep you from drowning in it. I will no longer rescue you from it.  It’s only a matter of time, I’m the keeper of secrets. I won’t say a single word.

Singing background vocals, every single time? But, then again, I expected nothing more. You were always mean-spirited, a dark shadow, why would I ever think you would be fair?

 

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Plinky Prompt: Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about:

secret & oublié

secret & oublié (Photo credit: andrefromont/fernandomort)

  • Never, Not A Chance
  • A best friend’s secret. The definition of a best friend is to be able to have someone who you can trust entirely. If my best friend told me something that was very sensitive and made for a good story, I wouldn’t write about it…even if someone wanted to pay for the story…( well, okay I would think about changing the names and situation! just kidding ) A secret is a secret, you don’t talk about it, gossip about it, write or whisper about it. What you do with a secret is keep it safe, tucked away securely in your heart. Secret?
    What secret? I have no idea what you are talking about…

Bust An Infertility Myth “You Have Really Old Eggs…”

Venus

Image by Daquella manera via Flickr

Twenty years ago my husband and I battled infertility for over two and a half years. Infertility back then was shameful, shrouded in secrecy. Never have I fought for something so hard in my life, not before then and not after. This had been my dream since I was five years old, I was not going to give up easily.

I woke up at 5am, every day, to have blood drawn and an ultra-sound. Often, I was there again at night. We had tried IUI twice with no success. I was on a lot of medication and nightly shots that my husband administered into my sore buttocks. It is a draining process both physically and emotionally and it was not working. Eventually, I was told it was time to try IVF and we did.

The day for the IVF preparation was here and I was ready. I went in for one last ultrasound  and an unfriendly nurse started shaking her head, clucking and frowning. “Bad news” she said:  “you started ovulating on your own, the IVF is canceled, get dressed.”

She stopped me in the reception area as I tried to leave. In front of other patients she said loudly “You have really old eggs, at your age they just shrivel up.”  I was 33, not very young but definitely not old. I was crushed and left the clinic weeping. It didn’t even occur to me how unprofessional and rude the nurse was, I was too upset and depressed. The next morning I was scheduled to have an IUI .” My husband sat with me and stroked my hair.  We both needed a break and decided to have a date thinking only about the two of us. We went out to a small Italian restaurant, came home and did what we had not done in a long time, we made love.

I was scheduled to go in for a blood test the next week and I didn’t even tell my husband.  After my blood test I got the usual “call us tomorrow for the results.” I knew that routine by heart but I felt calm, peaceful. Later that day, I got a call from a nice nurse who asked me how my day was going. I said “fine.” She said “well, I’m calling to tell you that your day is going to get a whole lot better! Congratulations, you’re pregnant!” I remember saying “no way.” She replied with “way” and had to convince me that it was  true. I shut the door to my office, sank down to my knees and wept with gratitude. Later, I opened the door and in a dream-like state walked out slowly, one hand already cradling my stomach.

After all we went through I didn’t want to tell my husband on the phone. I knew he was supposed to play racquetball after work, across the street from my office so I surprised him there. I asked our friend if I could borrow my husband for a few minutes and he smiled and left us alone. I leaned against my husband and whispered in his ear: “I love you very much and we’re going to have a baby, I’m pregnant.”  He stared at me blankly for a few seconds in shock. “I’m pregnant” I repeated and his warm brown eyes bulged out of his head. “Are you sure?” he asked softly and I said “yes” beaming.  He was so excited that he canceled the game  after ten minutes and arrived home shortly after I did. Apparently, my decrepit old eggs were still viable. We had a baby boy nine months later.

Addendum:

On our son’s first birthday I got out the number for the clinic. I tried to see the date of my last period but I had forgotten to keep track. I felt peaceful, calm and happy. “Oh my G-d” I whispered to my son, “I know this feeling.” I went out and bought a pregnancy test and it was positive. Our daughter arrived without any medical intervention, nine months later.  My eggs rocked.

http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  National Infertility Awareness Weekhttp://www.resolve.org/takecharge.*A wonderful organization to raise awareness for infertility with compassion.

Plinky: How Do You Define A Friend?

Hot Glass, Ice Cubes and Room Temp Cola causes...

Image by srboisvert via Flickr

I had a best friend for years, where trust, laughter, love and an eager dining companion perfected my single world.  Her name was Katy and we met in a small apartment building in a suburb of Boston. We were the “Mary” and “Rhoda” of the 80’s. The only thing missing from our studio apartments, one above the other, was the big first initial of our names hanging on the wall, just like Mar had. We met in the tiny laundry room one day where she gave me advice about wrinkles. When she grabbed my clothes from the washing machine, and shook them out, I felt a little uncomfortable.

We had been best friends for years and when I met the boyfriend I would eventually marry, I couldn’t wait to  introduce him to my best friend.  I admit, the first meeting was a little awkward; Katy was polite yet distant. Their was no warmth as we passed vegetable lo mein and chicken with broccoli amongst the three of us.

Later, my husband and I introduced her to the man she would marry, a friend of my husband’s. Katy and Bob were both loners and somewhat eccentric but we took enormous care in matching them up. There was no doubt in my mind that they would take to each other and they did. We danced at their wedding while my husband and I waited for the toast to us the “matchmakers.” There was none. The bride and groom sat alone, away from their family and friends, secluded from their own party. No, I was not the maid of honor.

There were normal friendly disagreements, like in any friendship, yet Katy never wanted to talk things out; she hated any type of confrontation. Looking back, our friendship was at its peak when I constantly placated her. When I became a more confident, independent person she did not like it yet she wouldn’t talk about it either. This started the chilly decline and her withdrawal. All of a sudden the warmth I had initially felt became a fake veneer, breaking glass to reveal nothing but ice.

One devastating situation that I shared with her was when my husband and I were trying to have a baby and I was depressed. She was in my car when I broke down once and sobbed. Back in the late eighties and early nineties no one talked about infertility treatments, it was a hushed topic filled with shame and heartbreak.

After two and a half years of painful infertility treatments I FINALLY got good news. I got a call from the nurse in the doctor’s office telling me I was pregnant; I softly closed the door to my office, sank on the dirty carpet, and wept. We waited through the first trimester with extreme caution telling no one except for immediate family.

I couldn’t wait to tell my best friend the news! She was so special to me I didn’t want to tell her on the phone so I invited her to dinner at her favorite restaurant.  With my voice filled with emotion, my Diet Coke shaking in my cold hands, I told her that I was pregnant and she was going to be an aunt. I waited for her response with tremendous excitement. I was expecting a shout of glee, a warm hug, excitement but there was nothing but silence. Nothing.  What I did get was a frozen expression and a few tears trickling down her face. She wouldn’t even talk; I was in utter shock, deeply disappointed and confused. When I questioned her reaction all she said was “I’m fine.”

What happened later is not my story to tell and I will not share her secrets because it’s not my place.  Her husband confided in us and told too many intimate things. I told Bob that we didn’t want to be put in the middle of their drama, that he should talk to her. He didn’t. When I tried to talk to Katy she denied everything and lied to my face. I can accept a lot in a relationship but lying is absolutely abhorrent to me. Tell me it’s none of my business but do not look me in the eye and lie.

Once pregnant, she dropped me, cold. I didn’t understand. There was nothing I could do to re-establish the bond which I thought was absolutely unbreakable. For many years I tried to reconnect but she didn’t want to have anything to do with me. She made that very clear. I can’t say I didn’t have clues, I had many: the way she treated her parents and only saw them once, maybe twice a year. They were not allowed to visit her in Boston.There were many other signs, I saw the pieces of the puzzle but never put it together until now. She was emotionally damaged and people had been telling me that for years. I just couldn’t believe them, I didn’t want to believe them. My very best friend in the world, not only broke my heart but shattered it. She ended our friendship quickly and abruptly as if she was throwing an emotional grenade in our direction, then she turned and fled. Not looking back. Ever.