It was just a day, an ordinary day. I was dressing up, putting on my black winter jacket, when all of sudden I was surrounded by darkness. A throbbing pain came down my neck and I was lost. Gone. But a Day without Me was born. I was eleven when I first heard that song. I remember how much I loved it. It had everything. That emotion. That power. But I never knew that one day, a Day without Me, might turn into Life without Me.
I still don’t know where it is. It’s not that dark but, my left eyesight is damaged. Still. But it’s not still. It has thousdounds of little, white flickering lights that my brain by mistake flashes up in an attempt to understand something. The bright lights are here, in a Day without Me.
Sometimes I swim. Towards lights. Trying to find my anchor, as a tempest storm rages in my head, my ears, my chest, my lungs, my womb. Rages and I spin. I try to swim. My core is still strong. I do every second morning 200 abb pushups. In between Days without Me. And my spirit sings. And says walk. You are a spirit walker. Or swim if you like. And I tell “But I am a spirit daughter. And a walker. In Life without Me, I can be anyone I want!” And he withdraws in confusion.
Darkness over my head I can conquer. I am safe for another 29 years. In the meantime, how can I create A Day with Me? And maybe then, a Life with Me!
The fireworks this very moment interrupted me. Again. My heart pounds. Spirit hides behind my ribcage. Crouch. Doesn’t walk. Doesn’t swim. It swings in the cradle behind the bone-bars, waiting to be born, one Day without Me.