An Invisible War

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She walked down the faded stone steps and noticed they were crumbling in a few spots. She did her best not to slip on the glare ice barely concealed by a thin layer of snow. Leaving work, her entire body felt worn, and a slow pulse in her temples warned her of the oncoming mind splitting headache about to occur. Her carefully maintained composure began to slip as her mood rapidly shifted and apathy curled around her half frozen toes.

The days had been like this lately. Paint those lips, darken those eyes. Go to work. Tackle a thousand projects. She’d been forgetting to eat again too. Forgetting. Completely lacking an appetite. What’s the difference? But the moment she traipsed down those wide stone steps she felt it. Her body giving up the fight and caving to the imbalance of chemicals rushing through a million synapses.

The honest piece of her recognized the familiar signs and the deep ache starting to spread from her heart outwards. Headaches. Mood swings. Odd sleep patterns. Appetite change. Apathy. Feeling tired all the damn time, no matter how much sleep she allowed herself. The other part of her? Well, that part of her had no time for this kind of crap. She had gone to the place of endless nights once, and there was no way she was going back.

Her heels clicked across the marbled floor up to his door and she stared at the outline of where a knocker used hang. She absent-mindedly wondered why no one had ever fixed it, while flicking through the excessive amount of keys dangling off the solid silver ring. She felt the lock give and turned the knob as she pushed the heavy old door open. These buildings were notoriously ancient. She was grateful to find the lights all off and have a few minutes before he got home.

She had been sitting on the couch feeling worn and much more irritable than her normal self, when it had originally hit her. She was one foot slip away from free falling like Alice with arms flailing down the rabbit hole. Except this adventure wouldn’t be quite so magical.

The haze of darkness rolled towards her ever so slowly and then enveloped her all at once. The darkness settled in rather cozily as if to accentuate the point that it had never truly left. Darling, how far did you think you could run? But shh, I’m here now; you knew I could never leave you.

Her eyes shifted over to his handsome face a few feet away, and she wondered if he had it in him. If he had the gritty kind of love, which hangs on, when the other person can’t seem to find where they left themselves. She’d always been afraid of this. Missing a step and tumbling headlong back into the fog and seeing another person pack their bags, and slip away before the darkness could clear.

Most people simply aren’t strong enough to deal with the sheer weight of the fog pushing down all around. They feel so noble as they attempt a peek into the darkness, but their sight quickly fails with questions of why and how can I fix. It’s an invisible war swirling within a tiny body and the only pictures are blurred in black and grey. The photos depict an over tired, irritable, shell of the person the holder once loved.

And so the invisible war rages on and the other person feels as though they tried to do all they could, really they did, and leaves with their conscience clear. What a valiant effort.

This progression rapid fired through her brain as she took in the strong jaw and soft eyes of the man next to her. She settled against him and felt his body naturally take hers to his. Her breathing began to match his slow relaxed pace, he always did move through life this way. She felt herself drifting into the sweet place between waking and sleep. Moments later there was nothing.

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2 thoughts on “An Invisible War

  1. This was so beautifully written! Her inner struggle is one that I myself do not know fully, though I do know the anxious side of it and the fear of losing the one you love to packed bags because they can’t handle it. Thank you so much for sharing!

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