Chapter 6
Logically, I know by now there must be a large discrepancy in the time since my mystery man has left and right now-- but for some reason the skin on the back of my hand refuses to acknowledge it. It's still tingling from the sensation of that oh-so-tender touch.....
It's hard to believe it happened, and hard to not to.
I've heard on the news about these people, these "do-gooders" as they called them, who'd go around and try to make someone's day..... You know, like buy a bouquet of flowers and give them to a complete stranger.... That sort of thing. Maybe that's who "the butterfly kisser" is.......
Or maybe he's just my guardian angel.
It's funny. I didn't think I had one anymore. I was pretty sure Mama saw what I have done with her wishes for me and floated farther away-- at least that's what it feels like....
So maybe she sent me a replacement...... It just felt too powerful to be some "do-gooder"...... There was a connection there. I swear it.
God, I sound ridiculous.
I wish I could leave this stupid train of thought alone.... I'm going on and on about angels and "higher connections"... I sound like a freakin' televangelist..... Just leave it alone Emily. It's over.
I only last a few minutes from what my internal clock is telling me, before I start making a mental list again. And I can only come to one conclusion.... I can't possibly know him. If I knew him, I wouldn't have felt so alone when I was awake-- because right now, just knowing he's out there somewhere, existing......I already feel better.
Now I'm starting to scare myself.
A stranger comes in, sits in silence by my bedside for a while and kisses the back of my hand before he leaves and I'm what? I'm falling for him........ God, for all I know he may never come back.
I feel something again-- nervous, nauseous knots forming in my stomach...... These feel only slightly different from the ones I'm used to getting-- the kind I used to get when I'd wake up in the morning and have to get out of bed, dreading another day of living like I'm dead.
Except now I don't feel so dead....
In fact, the skin on the back of my hand feels remarkably lively.
It must be morning, because someone's talking to me now..... I don't even bother to distinguish whose voice it is.... It's all the same recycled crap anyway. 'Emily, please wake up, we miss you--' Gets a little repetitious after a while..... but hell, they get an "A" for effort anyhow...
I'm kinda starting to get used to this..... This feeling of no time-- just long and short. It's quite invigorating here-- no worries, no cares, nothing....... This will do, this'll do for another day, or week, or life........
The door opens, and I'm greeted by silence. The stool beside my bed is pulled out, but still the room is muted. I actually feel myself growing excited by this..... No, don't let yourself go there Emily. Wishful thinking only leads to disappointment.
I can't help it. I *need* it to be him.....
For the second time now, I think he's managed to stop my heart in my chest-- and give me a connection to the outside--
I can feel his hand.... his fingers lightly interlaced with mine.
This is definitely, without a doubt, the strangest thing I've felt in my life...... My whole body lays numb, except my hand-- the tingling, novocaine feeling is gone-- And now I can feel completely, if not super-sensitively, the warmth, and every crease and texture of his skin.
Again he sits next to me, speaking without words. He feels familiar-- like I've known him my whole life-- if not before I was born..... It's so weird. I feel comfortable with him-- I feel comfortable laying in front of him like a brain-dead slab of meat, I feel comfortable with our silence, with letting him see how weak I am, and vulnerable.
He feels it too-- I can sense it in his touch.
Except one thing..... Vulnerability. Our connection has left him exposed-- and it's the nakedness of it that chokes his words. God, I wish I could tell him that he's not alone. I've been there....
I wish I could soothe the exposed nerves like he has for me.
His hand slips out of mine, and it jolts me out of my thoughts like ice water. I have the sudden impulse to cry, but no tears come...... My face remains slack-- an empty window between us. I don't want him to leave..... I don't want to wonder if he's coming back..... I want to..... I don't even have the will to finish the thought. I just know that this stranger has completely turned me upside down-- and I don't want him to stop.
My hand feels completely cold, and for a second I panic. Did he go already? Is he still here? Why do I suddenly feel so totally lost?
Warmth.
On my forehead.
The "butterfly-kisser" has struck again.
I let myself fall backwards into the abyss I had been fighting, the conflicting emotions rolling off me as I fall deeper and deeper into the sleepy sensation. For the first time in a long time I feel something I'd nearly forgotten.
Happiness.
And through my sweet haze, I hear something break through like a whisper.
"I love you Emily."
Logically, I know by now there must be a large discrepancy in the time since my mystery man has left and right now-- but for some reason the skin on the back of my hand refuses to acknowledge it. It's still tingling from the sensation of that oh-so-tender touch.....
It's hard to believe it happened, and hard to not to.
I've heard on the news about these people, these "do-gooders" as they called them, who'd go around and try to make someone's day..... You know, like buy a bouquet of flowers and give them to a complete stranger.... That sort of thing. Maybe that's who "the butterfly kisser" is.......
Or maybe he's just my guardian angel.
It's funny. I didn't think I had one anymore. I was pretty sure Mama saw what I have done with her wishes for me and floated farther away-- at least that's what it feels like....
So maybe she sent me a replacement...... It just felt too powerful to be some "do-gooder"...... There was a connection there. I swear it.
God, I sound ridiculous.
I wish I could leave this stupid train of thought alone.... I'm going on and on about angels and "higher connections"... I sound like a freakin' televangelist..... Just leave it alone Emily. It's over.
I only last a few minutes from what my internal clock is telling me, before I start making a mental list again. And I can only come to one conclusion.... I can't possibly know him. If I knew him, I wouldn't have felt so alone when I was awake-- because right now, just knowing he's out there somewhere, existing......I already feel better.
Now I'm starting to scare myself.
A stranger comes in, sits in silence by my bedside for a while and kisses the back of my hand before he leaves and I'm what? I'm falling for him........ God, for all I know he may never come back.
I feel something again-- nervous, nauseous knots forming in my stomach...... These feel only slightly different from the ones I'm used to getting-- the kind I used to get when I'd wake up in the morning and have to get out of bed, dreading another day of living like I'm dead.
Except now I don't feel so dead....
In fact, the skin on the back of my hand feels remarkably lively.
It must be morning, because someone's talking to me now..... I don't even bother to distinguish whose voice it is.... It's all the same recycled crap anyway. 'Emily, please wake up, we miss you--' Gets a little repetitious after a while..... but hell, they get an "A" for effort anyhow...
I'm kinda starting to get used to this..... This feeling of no time-- just long and short. It's quite invigorating here-- no worries, no cares, nothing....... This will do, this'll do for another day, or week, or life........
The door opens, and I'm greeted by silence. The stool beside my bed is pulled out, but still the room is muted. I actually feel myself growing excited by this..... No, don't let yourself go there Emily. Wishful thinking only leads to disappointment.
I can't help it. I *need* it to be him.....
For the second time now, I think he's managed to stop my heart in my chest-- and give me a connection to the outside--
I can feel his hand.... his fingers lightly interlaced with mine.
This is definitely, without a doubt, the strangest thing I've felt in my life...... My whole body lays numb, except my hand-- the tingling, novocaine feeling is gone-- And now I can feel completely, if not super-sensitively, the warmth, and every crease and texture of his skin.
Again he sits next to me, speaking without words. He feels familiar-- like I've known him my whole life-- if not before I was born..... It's so weird. I feel comfortable with him-- I feel comfortable laying in front of him like a brain-dead slab of meat, I feel comfortable with our silence, with letting him see how weak I am, and vulnerable.
He feels it too-- I can sense it in his touch.
Except one thing..... Vulnerability. Our connection has left him exposed-- and it's the nakedness of it that chokes his words. God, I wish I could tell him that he's not alone. I've been there....
I wish I could soothe the exposed nerves like he has for me.
His hand slips out of mine, and it jolts me out of my thoughts like ice water. I have the sudden impulse to cry, but no tears come...... My face remains slack-- an empty window between us. I don't want him to leave..... I don't want to wonder if he's coming back..... I want to..... I don't even have the will to finish the thought. I just know that this stranger has completely turned me upside down-- and I don't want him to stop.
My hand feels completely cold, and for a second I panic. Did he go already? Is he still here? Why do I suddenly feel so totally lost?
Warmth.
On my forehead.
The "butterfly-kisser" has struck again.
I let myself fall backwards into the abyss I had been fighting, the conflicting emotions rolling off me as I fall deeper and deeper into the sleepy sensation. For the first time in a long time I feel something I'd nearly forgotten.
Happiness.
And through my sweet haze, I hear something break through like a whisper.
"I love you Emily."