they say bad things happen for a reason

how does it feel?

impact. lights. blind blinder blinding.
it's numb. there's no pain.
nothing but the odd realization that your plans for the night/week/month/year have instantly changed.

there's no reason to cry. why would you cry when you feel no pain?

you whimper and you ask for the only people you want to see. other people come anyways. they put your neck in a brace and cut your clothes off and put an IV in your arm even though you've been afraid of IV's ever since you've known what they were. they ask for a number one through ten even though you're no good at gauging ballpark figures. you're inside an ambulance and you think ah, that's what they look like on the inside. you feel like you're floating above yourself, watching. your leg is at an uncomfortable angle and you're horrified to find that you can't move it to make it comfortable. you start crying when you realize you're going to miss the football game. you cry more when you realize you're going to miss the rest of the season.

you go into surgery and are so tired afterwards that you can't even stay awake to watch the game you cried over.

you spend an excruciating helpless horrible month and a half in a wheelchair and shower every other day in a little room all the way across campus. you eat less because your stomach shrinks since you're not using up the same amount of energy that you did when you could walk.

four months later you sit, one leg well and the other leg in a state of infuriating limbo. you still haven't walked. you almost don't remember what it's like so you bring to mind memories like the way cobblestones feel when you run over them, how your foot feels when you stamp your foot in a sandal, the way new grass tickles when you run through it. you reassure yourself that you remember, you remember, you remember.

you make fists and cry and furiously type out your frustrations every so often. people feel sorry for you and let you go into the elevator first. people call you a trooper when they see you out at a bar. people see you on your little university provided scooter and say things like i wish i broke my leg so i could get one of those. you want to punch those people the only thing they don't know is that you'd give anything to be unnoticed, to be just like everyone else, to walk as slow as everyone else. they don't have to deal with this crap along with everything else a normal college student normally does. yeah, it could be worse. but it doesn't matter because when it comes down to it, it still sucks.

you try and try to be as positive as everyone says you are, but it's hard when all you want to do is build a time machine to tell yourself not to cross the street. you're about to crack. everyone's patience runs out eventually. they tell you everything is possible, but for you it's all just out of reach, and you don't know the next time it will be.

so for now all you can do is wring your hands, smile, nod, shrug, and say it's coming along. because there's nothing else you can do if you want to keep yourself sane.