Trapped

I couldn’t tell you how long it’s been. I can tell you that I stopped counting my breaths. I can tell you it feels like it’s been over 100 years. I can tell you it’s the most terrorizing experience I’ve ever felt. I thought after sometime it would start to feel normal. I would start to feel comfortable. I guess it hasn’t been long enough for that yet. 

I can remember my last moment of freedom vividly. I was sitting across from my beautiful wife having lunch. She ordered her coffee black, just like she always did. I hated the smell of it. Honestly I didn’t even fully understand why she enjoyed it so much. 

It didn’t matter though, I could watch her take her first sip of coffee a million times. The way she gently placed the mug full of piping hot liquid up to her luscious lips and took a slow sip. Then the waitress came over with our meal. She had a light panini. Even that was completely out of her normal eating habits. 

My wife had the most incredible eating habits. She was very focused on eating well. For a short time, back when we first met, I had broken her habits with my incredible cooking. She gained 20 or so pounds in the first two months of us dating. It meant nothing to me but it was the world to her. After a little while she got back to her regular diet. 

I never cared much about my eating habits. I was blessed with a naturally athletic figure. She never let that slide though, always telling me how hot it would be if I worked out like she did. She wasn’t wrong, I just wasn’t interested in the monotony of having a gym schedule. 

I would kill for that monotony now. I would kill to relive that moment. Or any moment outside of this. I don’t even know what this is. I’m enclosed in this nightmare and out of ideas to get out. 

I’m an idea man. Some people call me a genius. I’m not. I’m just a fast thinker. I’m a problem solver. I use logic to dissect the pros and cons of every action and reaction to the primary action to make my decisions. It’s all rational and relative. Except when I’m angry. Then I become someone else. That’s irrelevant in the moment however because neither version of me can save me. 

Am I worth saving? Is there really anything to save me from? Do they miss me? Does she miss me? 

She’s always so busy. I was always so busy. I doubt she even realizes I’m gone. At first I was focused on the seconds trying to keep track of how long I’ve been here. I made it to 3789 before realized that’s only roughly 30 minutes. I didn’t need that kind of negative energy floating around. 

That’s what she would say to me. Think positive. It’s a brand new day. I guess it could be, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve slept a lot. I’m real good at sleeping. In fact I’m so good at sleeping doctors think I have a diseasee. They call it narcolepsy. It means I fall asleep without warning or control. I haven’t really been able to figure out what causes it but it definitely flares up when I’m under emotional stress. So I spent a lot of time in here in and out of sleep so far. 

Or at least I think I have. I mean I still don’t know how long I’ve been here. I did the whole scream for help thing. My fingers are bleeding from trying to maneuver and break free. I figure I’m in a box of some sort. Considering my chest width is roughly 2-3 feet, I can say this box is probably about 3x8 maybe 4x10. Maybe a foot of head room. It’s pretty tight.

Makes me appreciate my wife’s old room. When we first started dating I had just broken my lease and pretty much moved in with her. The room was tiny but we both managed to fit and navigate ok. I know she was real uncomfortable having never done something like that before. Living with a man was something very foreign and new to this strong independent woman. I think we made it work. 

So how did I end up here. Trapped between a hard wall and a soft desire. I was never much of a freedom fighter, yet here I am fighting an invisible force for my freedom. What do they want from me? Who is they? How much do I matter? 

I struggled with self doubt for a long time. When you surround yourself with incredible people all the time, you start to wonder how incredible you are. I remember sitting with players and thinking  do I deserve a seat at this table? This table where everyone knows my name and what I do, yet everyone not at the table want to talk to everyone else. 

How long has it been! Wait, no I’m starting to get angry. Relax and rationalize. Relax and rationalize? Relax and rationalize! What is there to rationalize you idiot! You’re in a box! You don’t how you got here, how long it’s been, or if anyone even cares that your missing! 

Does anyone even care that I’m missing? I started hearing things. Voices. The good news is I also suffer from synesthesia. I say suffer because it took a long time to control the colors. I still don’t have full control, especially under duress thankfully it doesn’t react to my thoughts. Making it a lot easier to recognize that the voices I’m hearing are all in my head. There are no colors when they speak. 

I guess the people who hate me were right. I am crazy. I mean we are all a little bit crazy, but I am crazy. There’s nothing I can do about it either. Denying my psychosis is probably just fueling its growth. At this point I don’t think it really matters though. I’m trapped in this box and I’ve come to accept, there is no way out. God, I miss my wife. 

A phone rings.