Unbest

Anonymous on Florence & the Machine’s “No Light, No Light” (from Ceremonials, 2011)
(iTunes, Rdio, Spotify)  

“No Light, No Light” hit me in the gut like a cannonball, Homer Simpson-style. The lyrics are probably about God, but they remind me of my emotionally abusive relationship in a yeesh, yank-the-collar way.

It’s been over a year. Even after extensive self-repair, the occasional flashback makes me wince, like the outrageous fear I felt when he slammed his fists on tables or made me cry on my birthday (as well as every major holiday). One stormy night, he hung up on me and I ordered my brain noodles to not call back. We haven’t spoken since.

That blip in the timeline feels so bizarre. Daytime’s supposed to be safe, but sunlight didn’t dampen the ammo he threw. I felt like a Dixie cup and every argument was a pinhole. I didn’t realize how much of me leaked out over the years until I was just a vessel of organs.

I haven’t told many people about it because, honestly, I don’t think they’d believe me. Since I’ve become a devout subscriber to bad things disguising themselves as blessings, that cannonball was the best thing to ever knock the wind out of me.