A Loss of Control

There is a point in life when a person willingly accepts a loss of control whether it is in a relationship, in their child’s life, or in general. A loss of control, no matter how devastating, is inevitable.

Take a look at me now, sluicing the floor between my knees with desperate tears. What a disaster in action; every ‘what if’, every regret crippling my mind and body. In a house that once fed love and nourished harmony, I lie torn and scattered.  Let me keep you one more moment; I need just enough time to fabricate the declaration clinging onto the end of my tongue.

My body is taken over my wall busting shakes; thankfully, you can’t hear my strangled cries over your revving engine.

Looking up from the now soaked hard-wood floor, I am plunged into a stranger’s head. I twist my head as far both left and right as my stiff neck will allow, and I recognize nothing. The walls, once spirited and vivacious now ache with the same emptiness and devastation as I.

You have been gone for fifteen minutes now. I am still on the ground. The world is still spinning, and, contrary to my belief, I am still alive.

Lethargically, pathetically, I rise from the ground and shuffle into the kitchen. Taking my usual place at the breakfast bar, and wrap my hands around the awaiting coffee mug allowing the heat to awaken my shocked nerves. It’s funny really, in a morbid way, my coffee is still warm. You must have left quickly. Strangely, I did not feel that way. To me it seemed you left slowly, almost as if you were giving me a chance to stop you.