The Only Way

Reaching towards me and tucking a rebellious strand of strawberry blonde hair behind my ear,

My mother's wintery grey-blue eyes met mine, seeking some piece of information -

But what?

The longer her gentle touch wavered around my clenched jaw, the denser the silence between us became,

Until finally, with great difficulty, she lowered her hand and spoke softly - gently, as if I were labelled "FRAGILE" in capital letters.

"Are you okay?"

Am I okay?

Am I okay?

Am I okay?

The question, once it had been loosed, immediately began to ricochet between the tightly-knit bones of my skull.

Everything from the past year was suddenly unleashed - free for me to examine, interpret, and judge.

Pain, discomfort, loneliness, heartbreak, and emptiness.

In a moment, my composure was unravelling, as the memories that I had compressed, suffocated, and choked revealed themselves to me for what must have been the hundredth time.

It felt as if I was spiralling out of control, meanwhile clutching onto the moments which had caused me so much harm, hoping and praying that somehow they would protect me now in my time of need.

Dear God, I silently pleaded, hoping that my faith would serve me right, Don't let my mother see the falsity of my words when I tell her 'yes, surely, of course - I am okay' because the truth is that

I am not okay.

Not at all.

Not one bit.

How do you communicate wholeness to someone who is wholly and completely unbroken?

What can a person say or do, besides tightening his or her face into an unconvincing smile and lying to both the other person's face and every fibre of his or her being?

To ease the other person's mind, one's own feelings and emotions must be disregarded; that is the only way. Straight and fast. Into oblivion.