Collision

Every time I put my car in reverse, I get the same feeling. It starts in the base of my neck and moves down my spine. I’m going to be hit. Something is going to hit me.

I’m waiting for both mammogram and PAP tests results. I’m an anxious bag of nerves. That must be it. I’m about to get hit with cancer. Breast cancer or cervical cancer. 

My doctor calls. My boobs and cervix are fine. 

The feeling intensifies over the next few weeks. It becomes so overwhelming that I start parking on the street in front of our house and in pull through spots at the grocery store so I don’t have to reverse. 

And then it happens. I’m hit. Completely blindsided. The collision is violent. 

I can’t feel anything. There is a sharp pain in my chest. I struggle to breathe. Tears fill my eyes. All I can hear are the sounds at the moment of impact. 

“I don’t love you anymore.”