Some confuse it as déjà vu but I don’t. I was born with the ability to see past what was in front of me. At a very young age, I knew when things would go wrong, where things would take a turn, and sometimes who was involved. The only thing that didn’t come clear was how the person who was involved changed the situation. I never knew if the situation would be good, bad, or indifferent and I for sure couldn’t tell anyone what superpower I had.
In this particular moment, my judgment had been clouded with the overwhelming presence of you. Sometimes I ignored the signs because the effect you had on me, had been the best feeling experienced in this world. Solitude. Solace. Sanity. As fresh as a drink of water after gargling listerine, your love was. Oh where did it turn? Running in these woods, I knew it was you. I could smell your musk scent, even as I dazed. Falling onto leaves and broken branches, my mind flashes millions of memories. I begin to remember times that I once could not have ever remembered. My third birthday party, meeting my great-grandmother at her fence for fruit, the middle school’s cutest new boy walking into class on his first day, the brewing of my first taste of coffee, what I wore on my first day of college, what it looked like to push out my baby, the day I met… you. As the shutter presentation of memories flicker, I cannot speak. I am unable to look you in your eyes as you betray the fiery love I have given you all these years.
Presently descending into the earth, I collide with sorrow. The lack of acceptance I have of this situation is unbelievable. I want to trust that you mean no harm, and that you value the life of me, but I can’t. You have chosen to neglect the bond I created between us for what? Did you find love elsewhere? Did you grow tired of me and had no other option? No, you chose the life of someone illusive and fictitious. You lost sight of what life really is, what was truly real. What I was willing to give you, you avoided at all costs for lack of better words. Alone, I am in this moment. Listening to the silence in my mind battle against the forest noises that are oddly familiar to mice roaming in the occupied home of a New Yorker. Reaching for the answers, I dislocate my arm, my mind, my heart. And as these happy memories fade, the presence of such unpleasantry begins.
Rage is set in the back of my mind as I hold the knife you stuck inside of me. Regretting my decision of impulsiveness and trusting your judgment of coming here. Now pressing against the wound to avoid bleeding out, but in reality I am stopping the bleeding while simultaneously cracking my very own rib. No matter how hard I try to resolve the issue you’ve brought to me, I am making it worse by not being able to let go. And as I try to recall my superpower of clairvoyance, it fades into the earth just as I am. Remembering how this all started, I think of the first time I met you. The first time I became a new woman. You were then so innocent and full of life. Oblivious of the life I could have given you due to the imaginary wall built by your past encounters. Stacking like legos, the metaphorical bricks hide your backyard, your intent. This is what caused my clairvoyance to fail. And the reason why I am unable to produce a preconceived idea of this encounter before it came to pass. As well as the reason why I was hit in the woods and left to beg you for answers, beg for my life to proceed. Now I am stuck dissecting the events that have collectively concluded my fate.
While I lie in the dark woods, the countdown of my life begins. Ticking away like an explosive waiting to destroy an abandoned building that holds evidence. Unfortunately, all I can think about is you. How could someone so precious and so pure, conclude that only one of us could be living? As it’s written, my spirit is just as selfish and doesn’t deserve the attention and empathy to come, or to remain here. We could have discussed the heaviness you felt when in my presence, you could have grown up and left. The options were limitless and yet you chose the most violent response of all. And although I am unsure of your true motives behind such a vicious act, I understand. I recall many times that I wanted to inflict pain on you. There was the one time you totaled your car and left me stranded, the time you made me feel so useless and worthless that I brought a knife then as well, or the time you allowed me to experience a postpartum pain that numbed me so viciously that I had no idea who I was anymore. And yet, through those acts of disservice, I was strong. I allowed life to carry on and I loved you through your tribulations. The most daunting times, I allowed you to live as you. So saddening, watching your smiles melt away as you dumped that sorrow onto me. Heavy as deadlifting a barbell, I hinged backward to carry you through the unthinkable. It could have easily dropped you down like the last rep, but instead you fell on me before I could choose the better option.
Although you left me in a beautiful place, you left me for dead. Cold, shivering, and confused. The you I knew was no longer. As unrecognizable as a Visual Acuity Test, who are you anymore? My sixth sense alarmed me when it was time to go. I knew following you here would result in a complete disaster, but I trusted you. I trusted you to coddle me. But as I lay here and recollect the last 4 minutes of you allowing this knife to perforate my chest, I realized that there was no coddling. There was toleration. Allotting and authorizing my presence until it was time. You led me to believe that things would get better with time and as time came, better became as distant as the sky. The only certainty that I have is that it’s too late.
As the expiration date of my breath briefly approaches, I am silenced by you. The conscious I once knew grew angry and devious. I lost the ability to fight against my intrusive thoughts. Day by day you became more officious. As aggressively annoying as a fly at a hot summer barbecue, you overpowered the angel on my shoulder telling me to stay. Confusion approaches as the opportunity of a new life unfolds. In this moment, the only thing that did come clear was how the person who was responsible for my wound, was equally responsible for my amelioration. A compos mentis of clairvoyance hidden like it was a part of a game of hide and seek. It was I, the seeker, who found the woman within. Uncloaked by the very pull of a deliberate stab to allow the emergence of a needed rebirth. With a crack rib and a transfixed chest, a new woman arrives just as one leaves.