I hope one day I’ll only talk about you in the past-tense, Chronic Migraines.
We’ll have our final goodbye, and then your presence in my life will just be a memory.
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Updated 3 years ago,October 27, 2022
Youve been with me from the beginning, Migraines.
Anh Nguyen and Unsplash
Decades so thoroughly ever-present that I dont know my identity without you.
So many events missed, so many disappointments, so much pain.
You were there when I was 12, coming home from elementary school one afternoon.
I collapsed on the floor in front of the couch, sobbing.
The crush of the migraine was too overwhelming, too real, too much.
You were there in an evening university creative writing class.
Youre there every time I have to switch seats at the movie theater because someone nearby is wearing perfume.
The clouds waft toward me and conjure a migraine in their pink haze.
His cologne-doused form was only made tolerable thanks to the personal fan blasting recycled air straight into my face.
Every time she tries another medication or procedure.
I can feel you now, an echo.
The migraine isnt as bad now as it was last night, staining my dreams with a crushing weight.
Inciting the familiar worry that I wont be able to work when my alarm goes off in the morning.
Now it just whispers, letting me know that it could come back in full-force any time it wants.
If Im not careful.
If I dont take breaks from my screen to let my eyes adjust to the real world.
If, if, if.
I hope one day Ill only talk about you in the past-tense, Chronic Migraines.
Well have our final goodbye, and then your presence in my life will just be a memory.
I wont have to worry about loud sounds or bright lights or caffeine or lack of sleep.
Ill live like the others, who dont know what I know.
I dont know what its like to live without you, but I look forward to hopefully finding out.
