The Wrist

11:17 PM

As I lay awake in my bed, yet another night, I stare at my loose wrist in front of me.

Even in the darkroom, slight light filters through the hallway. I leave the lights on in the night as my son walks into the room anytime he likes.

I can see the black thread on my wrist. The thread holds the bracelet together which is nothing but a steel ring with the word “promising’ engraved on it. It is a gift from my friend Kristen over a year ago. I love this bracelet, a gift of intent. I think all that but still cant shove the thought still lingering my mind. Right where I see the loose black thread on my wrist, can there be also a slit right there? And blood oozing out painlessly until I go in a deep sleep and never have to know what happens next morning.

I never have to know who calls me what names, I never have to know who needs what from me, or I never have to seek any love or anything at all from anyone anymore? I will not have to feel the throbbing headache, I will not have to swallow my words dripping my unshed tears, I will not have to see the sunrise and then the sunset with heart tearing apart just as those clouds seem shattered through the sunrays. Brutal, brutal, sunrays…arent they the one causing a ‘daybreak’? Somebody, please give me a break.

Why can’t it just rain every single day and may the sun never come out because the sun doesn’t mean a new day ever? It is always the same wretched day, all over again. Over and over, all your life until that little black thread magically turns into a bright red bubbling line of oozing blood. Giving up life for the sake of life…and with a shudder, I jolt off the bed to leave the room. I follow the light in the hallway to find a gentle glowing face focussed on a piece of paper.

His face almost has the halo around it as he colors yet another cartoon. Yet another character adding to his long tale of funny stories, which are yet to unfold. He talks to me about it until I forget about the black thread or red thread….or my wrist.