Sunday, July 7

choking space

Sleep slipped away from me last night.  As I lay in bed, window open, I felt a sudden unease.  A choking claustrophobia spurred from years of living in a basement with a windowless kitchen.  It was an almost palpable weight.

I sprawled in bed, lengthening my body, showing myself I fit.  I wasn't actually being squeezed to death by my apartment.  The ceilings were low, but I could stand easily.  The lighting was dim, but I could see. I tried to reason my way through the claustrophobia, but came to naught.  After all, it wouldn't be a phobia if it had any ties to reason.

I almost walked about my neighborhood, barefoot, at midnight.  I thought maybe that would ease the tension.  Maybe I'd stroll toward State Street and see where it led me.

I stayed in bed.

And then Conlin started to snore.  With vigor.  And I thought: I am not very trapped while he is here.  He is the thing that has made me feel the most free.

And with that, the room seemed to slightly expand.  And I remembered that walls were walls, and I could be happy within even the darkest.


1 comment: