There is a Restlessness in me. He paces the small room that is the cavity for my heart. Like many Restlessnesses, he is claustrophobic. I feel his tension seeping in to my muscles as my knee shakes and my toes dig into the ground to grab purchase of something to leap from.
He is suffocated by everything and I, in turn become a bitch, snarling at anyone and frothing at the mouth. I don’t know what to do. A year or two ago, I would’ve been walking away and walking off all the tension, the stress (or lack of), the nothingness and meaninglessness. But I can’t now and I am helpless. I wait for him to leave.
But he is just scared and tired and frustrated. His eyes are wet with tears and his back with sweat. He has stopped pacing now and he looks at me, lost and hopeless. I feel him losing strength and presence. Before he vanishes, he whispers:
“Get your shit together.”