The Taurine Diet

Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star.  

It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. 

Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. 

Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything. 

  Shadows of swaying leaves pour through my car window and bounce along the seats. I fidget with the Lucky Strikes carton. Push it up, down, up again, flip it over, flip it back. Sometimes I get this feeling that if I don't do it correctly something terrible might happen. I scoff at myself, What is going to happen? My biggest nightmare already became reality. I nudge the carton again anyway. 

    I've been sitting in my car each morning since it happened. Every day I watch the lady who's parked next to me wrangle her little wiggly children into the van. She squeezes carefully between our cars to get into the driver's seat. I made sure to park further away today. When they pull away I roll the window down to smoke. I throw back a 5 Hour Energy and a RedBull on my empty stomach. "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" by The Platters playing in my headphones. 

  It all starts crashing down when work ends. I'll take my medication late so the buzzing in my brain distracts me. I lie on the floor. I watch the room go dark as the sun goes down. In a moment of weakness I called, it went unanswered. I cycle through my emails and texts over and over. Who am I waiting to hear from-- and why? I have to trick myself into falling asleep. My dreams startle me awake at 4AM.

  I don't like this routine. 

  I don't know how to exist in my life now.

  

Eulogy

When a life is over, 

the one you were living for, 

where do you go?

  I see you, in your familiar vessel, sleeping soundly. I trace the waves of your dark hair, the bump on your nose, the peaks of your cheekbones. Everything is exactly as it should be, perfect and unmoving like a wax figure. Almost too perfect, I was nearly doubting what I knew to be true. You're an imposter, wearing the flesh of a man who lit my world on fire-- you killed him. When I left the room, he was warm and breathing and when I came back he was gone.You, the imposter, in his place. Just like that. The world was shattering around us but you lie still. Was he even here, had I dreamt it?

  I see him now, in my mind's eye, waving gently like two friends waving goodbye through a car window. I feel the whisper of a kiss upon my forehead, so soft and swift like the wings of a moth. But when I awake, there is no one there. 

  I want to go back to that time, when I'd pretend to stay asleep as his lips pressed lightly on my face, and open my eyes. Taking in his silhouette above me, I'd beg, there's an imposter who will wear your skin-- and his eyes will be your eyes, and his voice will be your voice! Please don't go.

The love is in dark trouble!

The love is starting to die,

right now--

we are in the process of it.

The empty process of it.

  I'm grieving who I thought you were, who I desperately wanted you to be. I was so certain our future was in plain sight before us, that our dreams were close to absolute. Nothing has changed in this home but emptiness permeates every corner. 

  I would have been whoever you wanted me to be. I would have dyed my hair or changed my clothes. I would have changed my body, my voice, anything. But it was never enough for you. 

  I can't compete with these paragons of women wrapped beautifully in cellophane, with their breasts and hips and smiles all bundled up nicely beneath the shiny surface. You know, the ones you can see but will never touch. I want to be them so bad, to feel what it's like being your secret object of desire. I want to feel what it's like to be the thing you threw it all away for. 

Bitter Pill

  I was so desperate when autumn rolled in; it felt like my body was being filled with lead. I couldn't get up, I couldn't do anything. I really mean it when I say the fatigue was so debilitating that walking into the next room was like trudging through quicksand. The thought of getting up was an unfeasable task. I also started having anxiety again, waking up breathless and feeling like my heart could explode. I remember there was a period when I completely forgot what that felt like.

  When things failed to get better, I had to make an appointment. I was avoiding a visit and crossing my fingers that I'd somehow never run out of prescription refills. I've been reintroduced to antipsychotics. I used to loath the cocktail that I'm currently on when it was first attempted years ago. I despised it so much that I stopped taking medication entirely, resulting in my swift downfall. Nobody likes you off meds, trust what I'm telling you. No matter how high your confidence inflates, I can assure you that all your worst qualities will inflate too. 

  I do wish sometimes that I could really stop. I like to envision myself improving my mental wellness with the things everyone without a degree told me to do: go into nature, journal your feelings, repeat affirmations throughout the day, call a friend ... You know, the most innovative and groundbreaking suggestions. Cut to me dropping to my knees and exclaiming, "Is that all it took this whole time!?"