“Nothing happened”
I read, with no punctuation.
I close my eyes and squeeze out a tear.
Until this moment,
I’d never understood how two words
could have such contrasting meanings.
“Nothing happened”
Is an implication of our shared denial.
“Nothing happened”
Is a threat of contradiction.
“Nothing happened”
Is a worried inquisition.
“Nothing happened”
Is a simple statement,
a reminder,
a reassurance.
I try to play it back.
But my memory is lacking.
I can’t recall the external exchange.
Only the internal back and forth between
my slowing fading conscious mind
and the alcohol taking control.
The scenarios that play
like a whirlwind
in my mind
are so far from my reality.
Or are they?
My body temperature rises
and I can feel the sharp
all too familiar pain in my chest
as I reach the most severe sequence of events.
In my mind,
I let myself off the hook
to cool my core.
I’m slipping.
Nothing happened.
I repeat, Nothing.
Is what I remember.
Nothing.
Is all I have.
Nothing.