I can feel myself getting stronger now. My face is a bit older, and worn down around the eyes, but my skin has good color, my veins and pumping, and the muscles seem more toned. I look at myself often in the gym these days, examining all the new weaknesses, like scars, that have sprout up from God knows where. There was a time I was in the best shape of my life, and felt I could do anything, but those days are behind us, sickness and whatever else having worn a lot of it away. Much has happened for 25 years, certainly more than I bargained for, but I'll get back there again - that immovable impenetrable resounding place - I'm sure of it.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
You see, I had a repugnant feeling of death two months ago that still lingers with me from time to time. If I'm being honest, it has just been a hellish year, full of heartache and sadness and sickness, a paralyzed life of sorts spiraling out of control from Africa to the rest. There were some days I just sat next to a dripping IV and prayed the days would go faster, making deals with myself, that I would write off this entire precious chunk of life - how many weeks, one, three, eight? - just to fast forward to the end. That is a feeling I do not want again, and I mean ever again in my life. With each burn and each breath, panting hard on a treadmill or churning away in the pool, sweat dripping off my face, it makes it all melt further and further into the background.
No comments:
Post a Comment