This girl is scared to drink coffee.  This girl wants to drink coffee but this girl is scared.  Let me say it a different way.  The girl is scared to drink the coffee that she wants to drink because what if it happens again?

She knows it’s not the coffee’s fault but she feels the coffee was the catalyst. 

Fear is being out of control of your own body.  Fear is your body taking you on a ride you don’t want to go on.  A ride you didn’t agree to go on.  The ride is a scary one.  A ride where you don’t know, aren’t sure if, around the next bend, there will be enough track.

There are so many stick’ems for EKG’s all connected to a strangle of wires and they clickety-clack in the fist of a nurse  who puts them on and then presses them all like counting and suddenly you want to have your back against the ceiling so you can look down at yourself and see how your chest looks with all of those wires.

The room is cold.

When they pull them off it’s hot and there is no pain.  A sticky hot.  That is all.

I make mistakes sometimes. 

I still want coffee.