I cannot speak.
Words fly around in my head like lightning strikes.
First strike to the right, second to the left.
Then a direct hit to my heart.
My throat tightens as if I am wearing a scarf wrapped too tightly around it.
I swallow over and over.
I breathe slowly through my nose to stop the impending need to throw up.
Where did this come from?
This sudden panic.
I walk numbly from my bathroom to the side of my bed, grabbing hold of my pillow.
I hold it tightly to my chest as I rock back and forth.
Who have I hurt?
Who has hurt me?
I want a drink
No…I want a Valium.
No…wait. I want both.
I gulp air as the need to puke subsides.
I angrily swipe the hot tears off my cheeks.
Cursing myself for being fucked up.
How after more than fifty years of living…
I am now falling into a million shattered pieces…
This is my story.
The Shards of my Mirror.