“You were,” she said. Her voice had taken on a soothing coo. “In fact, you are. There were times in the past when you didn’t call, write, or respond to texts. Thank you for calling”
“Thank you for coming. I thought …” I started, “ I thought I had a handle on this.” My heartbeat was finally beginning to feel less like a jackhammer and more like the sustainer of life it was.
“Think of this like a lawn.” Her back was towards the window. The sun was hanging low in the southern sky peeking through the blinds. “You can get this lawn to look immaculate. As long as you do the maintenance this lawn will be beautiful. You can even skip a few weekends and, though not immaculate, it will still look good.
“But let’s say you go a month or two months with no maintenance. That once immaculate lawn will now be unruly, overgrown, and seemingly out of sorts. It’s not the weeds or the animals that are now living in the grass that are the problem. It’s not even the grass itself. They are all just a symptom of what happens when you let things go.”
“So even though if had it all under control …” I started.
“If you don’t continue to actively do the maintenance …”
“The weeds come through and the animals …” I didn’t finish the sentence and let my eyes close for a second.
When I looked up at her face I saw heartbreak for the first time. There was a sense of loss in her eyes.
“Please let me call someone,” she whispered. There were tears welling.
“I know how bad this looks but I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes … maybe an hour.” I put my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes again.
“The animals come back.” She said, distracting herself. She seemed to be making sure I had a voice to follow if I got too lost. “They are not the problem. The animals and the weeds and the grass are now just occupying space in an unruly area that hasn’t been maintained. You have to find the issues and manage them so you can then share that maintained self in life, love, and relationships. Sometimes helping others helps the self but a battery can only go so long before it must be recharged or in the worst case scenario, replaced.”
She wiped a single tear from her cheek.
“Please let me call someone,” the soothing coo caught in her throat.
“I’m better,” I said rolling on my side to face her. “The meds have kicked in and everything is starting to feel normal. You can … you can stay if you want to make sure. I have coffee or tea. There’s that pomegranate juice you like in the fridge. If things get worse you can call someone. I promise.”
She walked towards the door. Rather than leave, I felt her sit on the bed and take her shoes off. She situated herself in a spoon position behind me and put her arm over my right shoulder. I could feel her breathing as I drifted off to sleep.
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