Nights on the Soul©

I have almost stopped fighting now. I’m asking for your help now. If I can just get my funny little old body and mind and soul and heart and everything and nothing that is in me and you together. If only they knew. And I see you in everyone, when my thoughts are watching those strangers that sit next to me and don’t know. I am so alone, my twin fire. Come and be by my side while I am still alive. Promises die too, you know.

***

I awoke in my apartment, my eyesight blurred, my hearing impaired, my body a block of ice melting upon my floor. I was laying in a pool of my own sweat. Dave’s scent lingered in the shadowy room. I stood up to go to the bathroom and threw up on myself. I did not flinch in disgust but made my way meditatively towards the bathroom. The light was on. I took off the now dirty white t-shirt I’d been wearing and pulled down my cotton underwear to pee. Now I made a face as I noted the coating of dried blood mixed with fresh as an unseemly amount of my menstrual cycle made its way into my toilet. My bath was full of clear cool water inviting me to share its depths. I got into the tub with thoughts of joyous relaxation when I noticed what appeared to be cat scratches on both of my forearms. While examining these I then caught sight of my dirty fingernails. These gave me a start and a minimum level of electrical shock. I, in turn, sent a ripple of waves through the bath water. I pulled the plug, stood up, and took an extremely hot shower making my skin red in an effort to wash away unknown imaginings. Unspent sex dreams flashed pictures upon my brain like a strobe light.

When I finished my cleansing I quickly got dressed in jeans, long black sweater and old boots. I pulled a bandana on over my hair. I was ready to work on whatever it was I knew I had to work on, but what was it? Jesus, my job. I’d better call in sick. I looked at the clock on my microwave to see it was high noon.

“Hello, George, this is Miranda. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, but I’ve been sick and I just woke up.”

“Miranda, we tried to contact you for two days. I just hired a temp for two weeks. I thought you were quitting without notice.”

“No, George, what do you mean two days? I just got up.” I said as my confusion mounted.

“When you didn’t show up Monday, I thought it wasn’t like you not to call. We called in the morning and yesterday, but today your brother called and said there was a family emergency and you might not be back for awhile. He said you were unable to call. Is everything all right? I thought you weren’t coming back.”

I could tell he didn’t like this. His general standoff boss nature was being tested to the point of showing concern and he didn’t like personal problems.

“Uh, well, George. Actually, there has been a bit of an emergency and I don’t know when I’ll be back. So I’ll understand if you can’t hold my position. Um, can you send my check in the mail? Thanks.”

I hung up the phone and felt queasy in my stomach. I opened my front door and found three newspapers laying innocently upon my doorstep. My eyes darted left and right and I grabbed up the papers and brought them inside. Monday’s, Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s. Jesus! God! It’s Wednesday. What happened to me? Think, Miranda, remember. OK, now, I remember being with Dave at the club on Sunday, but that’s it, now it’s three days later! I started hyperventilating as I dropped to the floor and pulled at my hair trying to remember.

It was a creepy feeling not knowing. How did I get home? Was I here the whole time? Why is everything the same? Why is everything different?

Where the hell is Dave?

***