Open Wounds

As I go through life feeling rather invincible and indestructible, I've made choices accordingly. The would-be fatal shots glance off my thick skin like rubber bullets on asphalt. I can tell they hit, but they don't slow me down. It seems like a lifetime has passed, but it's a much shorter reality. Suddenly that thick skin I once counted on for protection starts to show its wear. It thins out to the point where I learn of my mortality in a heartbeat, a burst of light and emotion unlike anything comparable. The invincibility is gone in that same heartbeat. I know it is gone. I force myself to look at my skin, hands once seemingly made of impenetrable rock, now glowing warm and soft to the touch. Those blows that were once easily deflected would most certainly be critical now. The idea of switching gears from immortality to self-preservation is a daunting one. How do you go from care-free to careful in mere moments?

I slow right down, from a run to a crawl, wondering what this new and alarming change is all about. Surely I cant just go on living life normally, as I've always done? I cant trust the same people, make the same choices, deflect the same blows with indifference? Its frighteningly apparent that my feelings and emotions are more tangible now. Where pain was once an abstract thought to consider, it is now a gut-wrenching bolt of electricity. That sudden jolt shakes me to my core. I cant be in pain. Its not possible. All those previous hits I took, I was invincible right? Yet this pain is sharp and piercing, it has me breathless.

I look down at my chest and abs, expecting flawlessness as always. Instead of that former image of perfection, I find several deep healed over scars, and several more which are still bleeding. I drop to my knees in horror. How did I get here? How did I end up so completely damaged without even realizing it? Survival instincts run very deep in my veins, and even in my disbelieving state, they kick into gear. Its not even the discovery of these very painful wounds that has now slowed me down. On the contrary, I now have to figure out how to move forward, wounded, in this new skin. I have to adjust my actions accordingly, to avoid any future blow that could prove fatal. Now there is a new sensation to deal with besides pain, and that is one of fear. I have never feared the unknown before. I never had any reason to.

So this is where I am right now. Even as I know my wounds are healing, the fear of developing new ones has me frozen in time. Analysing the past only seems to open the lacerations further, and even my scars ache in protest at that train of thought. I will move forward however, somehow, I'm nothing if not determined. I look around the new landscape of desolation for other survivors, for a small sliver of hope, something to motivate me forward. "I'm still here!" I scream, at no one in particular. That is the motivation, I realize with sudden clarity. That is what will drive me forward, even blind. I'm still here.