Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Just another Romance Story

The sun was setting after another strong summer thunderstorm, and waves of steam were rising from the cobblestone road, just as her chest heaved with her ever impending excitement to attend the ball. She arrived early, hoping her true love would show and prove his love to her. Tonight will be the night, she hoped, that he would finally commit, and they would dance all night long like they use to do.

As she entered the building, the air was ripe with the smell of anticipation. Three others had already arrived and were primping for the evening to come, reapplying lipstick and securing their lace undergarments.

The town church bells rang at the top of the hour, and nearly everyone from the town was in attendance. The night had begun.

Her love was in attendance, shy but ready to perform, perhaps the only confidence he had in his own performance he had gotten from his love – she expected him to perform and this was his motivation: a strong woman.

They danced for an hour and a half, their bodies as one in perfect harmony, like two Legos that were not complete until they were pressed together to form one larger Lego. Both were elated at the magnificence of the night, as it was living up to both of their expectations.

Then, just at the peak of their joy, just as they were carefree, enjoying the night and looking forward to their future together, another man, rushing off the dance floor, bumps into him and the two lovers separate. Apart for the first time that night, the man looks at his love longingly and then rushes out of the room himself.

Devastated, his love crumples to the floor where she remained for a brief period before she mustered up enough courage to stand again, and when she did she gathered her things, said goodbye to her friends, dressed in forlorn looks, and she left.

She returned to her residence, sad and dejected. Still dressed for the ball, she retrieved a tiny bottle marked with an “X” from the back of her cabinet. She sat down. She took the cap off the bottle, brought it to her slightly parted lips, and swallowed. She set the bottle down, contemplating what she had just done, and in complete despair the picked the bottle back up and injected the rest of the poison.

She lay down in her bed, feeling guilty and sick to her stomach for having done what she did in an attempt to alleviate the pain. She drifted off into a deep sleep. The next morning she awoke, and to her surprise she was none the worse. Not only was the pain in her stomach gone, but also was the pain in her heart. Perhaps her lover’s leaving wasn’t as bad as she made it out to be, or perhaps she just over reacted.

The aforementioned story is an attempt to spice up my shoulder update on here – a pretty cheesy poor one at that! Still, I got your attention, didn’t I?

Last night I went to practice feeling well, I was able to do all the drills leading up to a pack drill, where I fell and landed on my wrists, jarring my shoulder and causing me a bunch of pain. I realized if it hurt this bad to fall, I certainly couldn’t expect to play in the July bout, as I had hoped to be able to do. I packed up my stuff, went home, and ate a tiny sliver of a key-lime pie I had made the day before. One sliced turned into two more, and before I knew it, I ate one-quarter of the pie. I went to bed, in pain and with a stomach ache, but to my surprise I woke up this morning with my shoulder feeling fine (and my stomach too, after several trips to the loo). Perhaps I overreacted. Still, it’s so hard to know when to stop when you feel pain and when to keep going. I suppose I should be happy that my shoulder doesn’t hurt today (and I am), but I’m still not confident that I can skate in the July bout. Boo.

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