This post is an exercise I’m participating in through {W}rite of Passage. This week’s assignment: Plot is the main point of your story. Every blog post is a story, however short or long you create it. What is the point of this post? Write a post with a clear plot- the point in which you are trying to make.
Some plots are action oriented, some are internal. I’ll let you decide which route I chose. To see the various posts of other participants, scroll down to the end of the post and click on any of the links. You’re also most welcome to participate.
***
I had seen you a thousand times before.
In the street. In a restaurant. In the hands of one or another adult acquaintances. On a movie screen. On television.
People I loved and respected, even the ones who were intimate with you, told me you were dangerous and that no good would ever come from a relationship with you. But I had watched you with a sense of wonder for years, and, truthfully, you didn’t seem all that bad to me.
My first real meeting with you occurred on a still, sandy night, beside the choppy Atlantic about seventeen years ago. I sat awkwardly playful in that stillness, wedged in between two friends on a creaky red lifeguard stand, giggling about something innocent all the while pretending that our problems were real ones, in the unique way that teenagers are known to do.
You sat in one of those friend’s pocket, quietly waiting for an introduction.
I met you at a time when I wanted with all my might to stand apart from anyone who told me they knew what was best for me. You were rebellion, independence, privacy, danger and solace all wrapped up into one tiny yet very well marketed package. That night, with sand in my shoes and a strange sort of light headed aching, I let you into my life.
I think there was a time I would actually have described the way I felt about you as love.
It wasn’t love, of course. It was fascination. Then, it was need. Then, came addiction. And, now, there is shame. And, oh, God, regret. Love was never really a part of the equation between us because love doesn’t exact the price that you do.
Love does not destroy the people who worship at its altar the way you do.
In the early years, you and I were inseparable. I needed you all the time, at least once an hour, maybe more. You made me feel cool, alert and strong. You created distance between just the right people and me. You were my wall.
Then, I began to love other people in a way that I never had before. For the first time, I met somebody who loved me so much that I was forced to love myself completely. My heart opened to the goodness in life. I realized that you kept me from fully experiencing that so, though it was hard at first, I willingly let you go. We separated. There was a powerful finality to it, too.
Until.
Life got messy and complicated. I started to believe that it was all too much. I was feeling too much and not feeling like I was enough, getting frustrated, and my biggest fear loomed before me: I was showing too much of myself to the world.
You promised to take the edge off. You promised to help me hide all that emotion, all that weakness. You promised that you could do this for me even if I just met with you every once in a while. Maybe at a party. Maybe at a lunch. Maybe in the late hours of the night, when the baby was fed, and everyone was sound asleep. Just every once in a while. Nobody needed to know, and it might make all the difference, you seemed to whisper.
It’s a beautiful story, but a lie nonetheless. I know now that you actually make me more nervous. See, when the toxins you put in my body began to fade, my skin crawls. I feel like screaming. I feel mean. I can’t sleep. My head hurts. I want to do anything and everything to just make the pain of not having you stop.
You don’t calm me. You make me worse and to add insult to injury you make me believe that the opposite is true.
Truly, I have never been more gullible and stupid than when I am consorting with you.
Yesterday, I stood in front of a woman who took x-rays of my lungs. As I stood there, coughing, wheezing and gasping for air, I thought about all of the lies I told myself about you. I thought that just a sporadic association with you would save me from this. Other people cohort with you hourly, daily… I only see you every once in a while.
Apparently, everyone is different. My brother, the doctor, told me that some people can commune with you ten times as much as I do and never have a problem like this. But, he quickly added, you’re just not one of those people.
I’m not one of those people. I don’t want to be one of those people, either. Any relationship with you carries a price, whether it’s a relationship that is daily or as sporadic as once every few months. The price must be paid. I don’t want to pay it. I don’t. I can’t. I won’t.
I think about my family and how they deserve a mother, wife, daughter, aunt and sister that smells like beautiful, clean and fresh air all the time, a woman that can run and play and keep up with them, and that is … alive.
I think about how I deserve to be proud of everything I am, how I am too old for secrets, hypocrisy, inconsistency and shame. I think about how I am so much better than you and how low I feel when I let you get the best of me.
Over seventeen years ago, I made a ridiculous choice while sitting in a lifeguard stand on a chilly November night. Last week that choice turned into a head cold, that turned into a deep chesty cough, that turned into an x-ray, that has turned into a desperate prayer… and a firm resolve.
You and I? We will no longer be even the sometimes friends that we’ve been of late.
The falseness of your promises roughly washed over me yesterday as I desperately hoped that the X-ray tech would break protocol yesterday and say, Oh, you’re fine, it looks perfect, I don’t even know why you’re here.
But she didn’t say that, so, now, I wait.
Notably?
Without you.
Posted by Faiqa on February 3, 2010 2:36 pm • Seriously. I Have No Clue. About Anything.,Uncategorized • 26 comments
26 Comments »
RSS feed for comments on this post · TrackBack URI
Nanna Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 3:03 pm
Holy shit, this is WICKED good. And honey, I FEEL ya. You know I really, really do.
Praying…
[Reply]
Finn Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 4:09 pm
Oh honey. It will ne OK. It will be. I feel it.
And I get it. Totally.
Well written, btw.
[Reply]
Sybil Law Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 4:47 pm
Fantastic.
And totally surprising!
[Reply]
Miss Britt Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 5:38 pm
This is too scary and close to home for me.
I’m praying for good answers for you, and more strength than I have had thus far.
[Reply]
Karen Sugarpants Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 8:00 pm
I am very very worried about you now and hope everything turns out to be okay.
Beautiful writing Faiqa – but please please let me know when you find out?
All my love…
[Reply]
SciFi Dad Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 8:13 pm
I am suitably shocked. I smoked for a number of years and quit a month after I met the woman who would become MTM. It will be ten years this July since I smoked a cigarette. And not a day goes by where I don’t think about it.
Good luck Faiqa. I will have a good thought for you.
Also? Beautiful writing.
[Reply]
B.E. Earl Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 8:29 pm
I couldn’t tell from your preface if this was supposed to be fiction, or non-fiction. But judging from the rest of the comments I am going to assume the latter. Either way it is brilliant writing.
And if it is the latter, here’s to wishing for good news for you.
[Reply]
Al_Pal Said,
February 3, 2010 @ 9:39 pm
WOW. Stunningly written. Wondering, wondering… a clue! Ooh, re-read that first part…excellent deception… gotta love tricking the reader. Thanks for getting me out of my head just now. I needed that.
& Best Wishes. I’m lucky I never had more than a few here & there. ;p
[Reply]
Jason Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 1:00 am
Wait. I thought this was fiction.Now everyone has me thinking it isn’t.
In any case, it is extremely well written (no surprise there!)
I hope you’re okay!!!
[Reply]
Lisa Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 2:11 am
So beautifully written! Amazing really. I hope your wait for good news is short! I fought my own battle with the cigarettes and finally kicked it 7 years ago. I still want one at times.
[Reply]
Hilly Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 8:37 am
I love this piece of writing and love how deep, honest and raw you were here. Also, I will be totally doing the prayer thing that your X-ray is just a stupid bout of bronchitis or pneumonia!
[Reply]
Princess of the Universe Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 2:36 pm
Oh honey, my thoughts are with you…PLEASE be sure to post an update for this.
Excellent writing btw.
xo
[Reply]
tariq Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 5:38 pm
Beautiful writing.
You know I am here for you and will do whatever it takes to help you get through this extremely difficult time. Most importantly, I love you no matter the outcome.
[Reply]
Traci Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 5:40 pm
Incredible writing! I love you.
[Reply]
Multi-Tasking Mommy Said,
February 4, 2010 @ 8:19 pm
Wow, what a beautiful writing piece.
I am surprised, yes!
My thoughts are with you. Please do keep us posted.
[Reply]
J from Ireland Said,
February 5, 2010 @ 5:20 am
Wow, the writing. Wow, the content. I can totally relate to this. My thoughts and prayers and best wishes, I send to you.
[Reply]
Shelli Said,
February 5, 2010 @ 9:12 am
I know exactly what you mean. Exactly.
[Reply]
Tug Said,
February 5, 2010 @ 9:30 pm
Beautifully written…just beautiful.
Thoughts & prayers for a healthy result headed your way!
[Reply]
Mailis Said,
February 6, 2010 @ 1:47 am
Ooooh..this is WONDERFUL.
Just as most people who commented here…I relate. I am now extremely addicted to the gum that is supposed to curb my addiction.
Good luck to you. Kick it to the gutter and rotate your heel on it.
[Reply]
Avitable Said,
February 6, 2010 @ 10:04 am
But you’ll still do crack every fourth Thursday, right?
(Good luck quitting – I know you can do it!)
[Reply]
Sheila (Charm School Reject) Said,
February 8, 2010 @ 11:51 am
Whoa Faiqa!
I would’ve never ever guessed.
I’m hoping and praying that your test results come back “normal”!!
xoxo
[Reply]
Faiqa Said,
February 8, 2010 @ 2:26 pm
The lung x-rays came back normal, my O2 saturation is at 100%. Thanks for your positive thoughts. I do plan to follow up with a pulmonary function test once my cough clears up, just to make sure everything is okay. Thanks again, everyone!
[Reply]
Sheila (Charm School Reject) Reply:
February 8th, 2010 at 2:30 pm
@Faiqa, YAY!
[Reply]
Elizabeth Kaylene Reply:
February 8th, 2010 at 4:54 pm
@Faiqa, Whew!
[Reply]
Shelli Reply:
February 8th, 2010 at 7:25 pm
@Faiqa, Yay!
[Reply]
Elizabeth Kaylene Said,
February 8, 2010 @ 4:54 pm
Very well written. And damn, do I get it. I’ve been a closet smoker on and off throughout the last few months. I can’t afford it full-time, but every so often the stress builds up and I think that I need it.
Keeping you in my thoughts.
[Reply]