Tonight's Poet Corner: The Somber Sensation Of Doubt

The Somber Sensation Of Doubt
by Belinda Roddie

At the end of a long day,
when my hands had
turned to stone against
plastic keys and I was

too numb to even feel
exhaustion, I mused about
leaving her. She had
done nothing to deserve

that thought, nothing
to justify such an
intrusive suggestion
to soak into my brain

like a tea bag steeping
in hot water for too long.
I knew I would never
actually want to close

the door to what we had,
but the What If Syndrome
symptoms were rearing
their ugly heads like beetles

springing from their
burrows. I contemplated
all possible outcomes,
every single strategy

and outline of my battle
plan. Then I promptly
forgot it all when I made
it to the front step.

She greeted me again
at the bottom of the stairs,
like she always did. Kissed
me ten times on my lips,

cheeks, and the top of my
head. Offered dinner and
a hot cup of brew before
agreeing to accompany me

to a warm bed. I held her
against my chest, syncing
her breathing with my
heart beat. And when

we transferred heat, I
was buoyant beneath
the blankets, and I became
adjusted to the constant

sense of relief I always
recognized when she
lay next to me. It was
nice to feel personal peace.

How could I even begin
to idealize a world without
this beauty who was the
sole reason I was still alive?

Then I remembered.
And I waited for her
to fall asleep before
I let myself cry.