Every Single Day

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“It is the result of thinking not the process of thinking that appears spontaneously in consciousness.”

I could feel her heartbeat throbbing in her chest.
I could feel her beautiful eyes intently looking into mine.
I could feel the touch of her waist at the back of my hand.

And I could feel her smile drifting away from never land towards her solemn and calm face, making its way past all the deceptions I had about its former location, running away from that darkness that chained it from all sides, and slowly returning back here, to us, to the present, and to reality. 

..But was the reality really real? Were we real? Was this moment real? Where were we? In a non-existential reality or a more stretched version of it. Were we true? Was this true? What is true?
Is the truth true? Or is it just another fabricated claim made by life to trap us in a macramé of never ending truths and realities?

*Distant sounds*
*Urgent whispers*
*Violent movements*
*A repelling shrug*
*A sudden blackout*
*A sense of falling. Drifting away*
*A heart- rendering scream*

Where am I? How did I just get here? What happened? Where is she? Where did she go? Why is this happening? How did this happen?

*More urgent whispers*

I could see them. All of them. But they did not feel real. Not as real as her. Were they an illusion of my mind? Or were they the truth, the real reality? What was happening? Why am I here?

Millions of questions flooded my mind and vague assumptions filtered them to just one. Is this real?
What happened afterward still curls my mind into a maze of blackouts and unsure memories. I wasn’t sure of this. I wasn’t sure of what was happening and to be truthful, I really wasn’t sure of anything at all.

I was scared and devoid of even the remnants of my courage that I had gathered during my brief encounter with her. I was nervous, there was no doubt, but most of all, I was afraid of what was going to happen and I had no control over it. I didn’t even know if this was real but I was devoid of her, her breath, her smile, her touch and I couldn’t stand being away from her.

*Louder and more worried noises*

I saw terror in their eyes. No, I saw terror in my eyes. I saw my eyes in theirs. And I looked afraid.

They came nearer. I was motionless. I didn’t know which move could provoke their inner monsters. I tried to stay calm but that had no effect on them. Yet they started to seem more relaxed, more calculating and definitely more dangerous.

They encircled me. I was dripping in sweat and my mind was crashing. I didn’t know what to do. I had a sudden urge to run away and I followed it.

..This was a mistake for as soon as I moved an inch of my finger, they pounced on me, grappled me. It was almost as they were prepared for this. They anticipated it almost as if they knew that I would do that.. knew me.

I was chained despite all protests from me.
A syringe was loaded and my cries, silenced.
A muffled whisper escaped my lips, “Why?”
But I knew they wouldn’t respond, wouldn’t answer my pleas or give me a chance.
They wouldn’t. I knew them.

And with terror in my eyes equating that in theirs, I calmly accepted the needle as it pierced my skin, jutting pain everywhere.
This is what happened every day, every single day since the past two years and I couldn’t do anything about it. And I did nothing about it.

I didn’t know what was real or what wasn’t. But all I could do was stare into those piercing eyes as they plunged a syringe into my skin, one, every single day.

All I could do was look into her beautiful eyes as she was taken away from me, once, every single day.

And all I could do was bid farewell to my dead wife as they took her away from me, once, every single day.


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