2-12-13

Spending our lives discovering how to feel and I’ve forgotten what it means.

Wearing your white coats and grin of intelligence you’re bound to be confident to have all of the answers. One cough and they steadfastly turn to you for a cure. You nod and hand them a bottle of positive attitude which is all they ever needed.

Yet for me you are different. You look me over with uncertainty. A challenge.

Where’s my bottle filled with rays of sunshine and magical unicorn potions?

Each day passes through me like static on TV, unvarying. A glimpse of picture here and there, never figuring out the full story.

These bruises almost add character to my being. I’m becoming used to them as they are me. We’re meant to be as one. They’re my tattoo and I am their host.

I miss that gut wrenching feeling when someone socks you in the stomach. Or that feeling of fright when you are startled by something. Or maybe even the excitement you feel before an event you have been dying to attend. That breathlessness. I miss emotions in general.

I am mesmerized by your emotions. His happiness. Her sadness. Their playfulness. I study them like the books upon my desk. How do they do what they do? I cannot compute “feeling”.

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