the flicker of sunlight through closed eyelids

Dear K-

I am sorry I was delayed in returning correspondence. This week has been a week. I’m too tired to even confront the adjectives necessary to describe it.

You’re stuck in a vicious cycle. This girl dug her nails into your heart a long, long time ago and carved in her sign. It may not be visible to others at first, but it’s there, continually drawing you back to her and making you cringe away from other possibilities. Those initials are an invisible tether that tugs your heartstrings until you find yourself talking to her again, imagining her eyes again, listening to her voice that has been entombed for your misery forever on a digital archive. But it’s a siren song, K, and you and I both know that you are drifting dangerously close to the rocky shoreline. You may not be able to hear the crash of the waves on stone because you are too mesmerized by those dulcimer chords, her gentle inhale and exhale masking the peril lurking at their source, but let me be the raven that cries a warning. Heed it if you desire. And if not, be honest with yourself of what lies ahead. It doesn’t matter what I think, in the end. All I can offer are words on a page and a sentiment of apprehension. It comes down to you realizing what you want and whether you’re willing to do what it takes to get it.

Lord knows I’m not willing to do what it takes. And that’s part of my problem.

I almost called you three days ago. I was driving home on a rainy, dark evening after a miserable day of work and I was questioning all my most recent decisions. I was a heartbeat away from applying to live in Vietnam. Sometimes I just get so startled about where I am in life; I feel like a hurt wild animal backed into a corner, desperately searching for an exit to bolt for at the first opportunity.

My job is miserable. My boss reads my mail, rummages through my desk, reads all my patient charts. He treats me like a child. The holiday with my boyfriend was lackluster. He drinks so much I feel physically repulsed by him. I slept in the guest bed for days, lying and saying I was feeling ill and didn’t want to risk infecting him. When in reality in was my heart that was sick. I still think I love him, but sometimes I can’t help but find myself wondering if there’s not something better. Something where I don’t always feel like I am compromising. Something where I don’t feel like I am always getting angry about stupid little details. But I always do. I am beginning to think the problem isn’t always the boyfriend and is more likely myself. In all the years, in all the relationships, there’s only one common denominator. And that’s me.

And so I considered up-ending everything and moving to Vietnam for a year. They need fresh optometrists to teach students at a new school they are trying to establish. I still might apply for the position. I still might do it. But I keep asking myself: how many times can I run away? Especially if I am just trying to run away from myself?

I am going to send you something to try to distract you from B. It is something you can laugh at, sing along to, delete, cry to, whatever you want so long as it gives you something to relax your mind for just a few moments. Maybe it will help your quest to be positive.

Let’s be positive. Tomorrow I get to participate in a state-wide pub trivia tournament. We were ranked in the top 40 teams for the entire state for the season and so we get a chance to win the big prize. I am looking forward to it. The trivia nights are one of the few points where I feel relaxed and happy. Maybe it is because the trivia distracts me from everything else and I am free to forget my surroundings and retreat into my mind palace.

I drank three cups of tea so far today at work and there’s nothing my boss can do about it. He may disrespect my privacy and belittle me but he can never take away my freedom to drink as much god damn tea as I want.

So, cheers.

-K