A clean break

I broke down today.
There were no witnesses. No music. No gasps for air.
A clean break.
Everything concentrated into rigid white
and I
swallowed it
down.

And what does all of that mean?
Well,

Dear Emeline,

I know you predicted that you’d find my painkillers unused five years from now. But since I have been disobeying your orders to rest and have instead raced on the stationary bike for one hour and ten minute-long intervals, and then waken up in pain each morning, I have decided that it is time to take one for the team.

Sincerely,
Your impatient patient

P.S. Brittany would like to share, “I can’t believe you broke something. Again.”

..

I look at my pictures and realize that I have every reason in the world to be happy.