Sometimes it feels like I have amnesia. Maybe this is something all people feel. Whether existential condition or the result of Lyme fog (I haven’t mentioned that I was diagnosed with Lyme disease about 3 weeks ago) or even the peculiar effect of curiosity when one has been given anesthesia at some point, I feel like my body and soul have been separated, and I am running after it even though I no longer recognize my own heart, chasing what I do not know, always missing it in the reverberant brume.
Small blips of who I was rush past my face, like the lights of distant cars speeding through the warm, summer night, blurry and untouchable. I was — am? — a fragmented and solitary coward. Yet, somehow I have been so brave and seemingly together, seeking company. But I still feel the heart beat of a coward. And I miss being solitary, finding my best times alone instead of chasing the affection of other people who will never give it, whether by the hand of a friend or the lips of a lover. More, I know that although I feel whole, I am not, and I am all the more terrified that I cannot find the missing pieces, cannot find even the jagged edges where they would go.
Who am I? Am I who I have always been? Do I even want to remember?
Is it my fault? Who the hell do I want to be anyway? What am I trying to become? What am I running from? Have I been throwing away the pieces of me that I don’t love, that I don’t want, getting rid of myself to be what I think I have wanted to be? Maybe I just destroyed them, pulverized them into the clouds encircling me, tore out my own eyes so that I couldn’t see that I am still the things about me that I hate.
Could it all be mere happenstance? Was the me who went in for surgery the one who came out? Has Lyme destroyed the me that was, pushed it beyond my reach? Or do we all question who we are at times? Can my own writings from years past affirm that I am still me, the me that was, that grew and changed into the current me?
Now, it’s raining. But I don’t mind. Tears fertilize our heart ensuring they continue to grow. What will grow though? Who will tend the shoots? Protect them? Who would find that worthwhile? Would I even let someone, want someone to do so?