Oh, to feel your clammy hands on my brow, to be overcome with the flush of feverish heat, to choke and sputter at your advent and, truly, through your entire time with me, you make such a vivid impression.
Why, this time around you have given me more gifts that I have any right to expect. Shall I name them for you? Of course I shall, for remembering this visit in case you never come to me again will remind me of the intensity of our time spent together.
You have bestowed on me:
- Chills and fever
- MUCUS so copious I hardly know where to begin in description
- Nausea and vomiting. Truly unexpected.
- Lung noises so many and varied that last night I thought I was dreaming of an Australian woman saying 'oh no' time and time again, but in reality it was just my upper left lobe doing a damned good impersonation. Really, very impressive, and how specific!
Like, breathing freely. I miss that.
And eating. I miss that too. This was not your best gift, I must say.
Also, I have discovered that as much as I LOVE MY BED, it's not the best place for me when you are around. Sad, I know, but the recliner that is so reliable in the times we spend together isn't the best place to catch all the requisite 'zzzs' one needs to be fully functional.
So, I bid you adieu. We have had some intense moments together this year, and looking back on them I will all the more appreciate the fact that I have now, I believe, gotten over you.
With this, I ask that you don't visit me any more.
Consider yourself broken up with.