Thursday, June 11, 2015; roughly at 3:15pm.
I felt like my body was a hazard suit, five sizes too large.
I was just sitting there, leaning over, eyes closed, listening to him, when my body began to shrink. Or should I say my soul …? Inside of me, my soul shrank back, pulling away from the walls of flesh until there was a gap -- an empty space -- between me and my self.
Instantly, this space filled with heat. My belly thrummed. My arms prickled.
My head shrank, peeling away from the inside of my skull, and immediately my cheeks began to burn. My eyes stung. I opened them and the world swam with the drunken distortion of a desert highway in the middle of a summer heat wave.
I could see what my body saw, but I was no longer driving. The space between the steering wheel and my body had stretched and warped into a tunnel, distorting my arms and making them impossibly long and thin and child-like. Everything felt wrong, like there was a few second delay between my brain and my body, and so I couldn’t movie naturally -- only toddle with the clumsiness of a child.
It’s times like these that I want to be cradled, held in arms that are strong and sure. So I asked you to hold me. And you did.
A deep breath later, and the dizziness passed. The heat wasn’t completely gone, but I fit more comfortably in my skin. You refreshed me like a glass of water.
The tremors in my soul had quieted.
