the longest second ever recorded

'now in hospital'

that was the text i received. 

what's it like to hold the fear of God within your phone? what's it like to experience the slowest ever recorded second? what's it like to feel your heart preemptively prescribe itself bandage for imminent breakage? to lose faith? to worry.

of course, a few nights ago i was sat in an ambulance myself, balancing spasming hands atop spasming knees. nettle sting, reaction, classic. i felt the room swing and my feet couldn't find footing- tom was on call pretty instantly, rattling off my personal details- birthday, address, allergies. fuzz. fuzz fuzz fuzz buzzed all through my ears, my underarms, thighs, mouth. red circles on wrist & back of hand. tom told me to breathe, he said they were on their way, he is who i would want there for me in such a crisis. he was strong and assured, and i a quivering mess of embarrassment as paramedics escorted my leaf self onto vehicular transport. 

i was dying, i was assured of it. it was all i could think. i'm dying i'm dying i'm dying. i'm dying dearest reader i love you i'm dying please don't let me. i beg you never let me go, i beg you let me live.

if it were not for toms steady presence, if it were not for his maintained gaze, my breathing may not have steadied and levelled. and i could have gone then and there i am convinced of this. the care, the trust, the call to arms not even rung out. i got better, they let me go. guiding me up stairs, the warmth of his hands purged through my sweating palms and he led me to bed. and there i lay, revisiting the past scenes. considering what it felt like to be convinced of death's invite. and i realised i really did not want to die. 

"how are you feeling?"

"like shit."

"yeah i bet"

"i really thought that was it for me, you know?"

"yeah. what was that like"

"i don't know. scary. i didn't have the whole flash of my life like everyone says. just the important things"

tom nods. when i met him he couldn't hold eye contact for love nor money, now it's hard getting him to blink away from my gaze. all this practice and now he reads me with ease. he knows exactly what i'm saying with this comment. he knows exactly how i feel. i saw only the important things. 

he said your name, dearest reader, and i replied a lowly yes. and you. and mum and dad, i said. 

"of course"

a beat.

"if you hadn't been here i don't know what i would've done"

a beat.

"i know"

my begging had helped- i was here for more time. lived to see another day, as they say. tomorrow tom and i collect my engagement ring, the beautiful peridot to happily accompany me forever. amen. this evening i had salmon for dinner. i write with the window open. my nails are long.

"now in hospital"

and my first thought; all my begging for what? shouldn't have wasted those eyelash wishes. let me trade. 

dying, assured. it was all i could think. dying dying dying. dying dearest reader- i love you dying please don't. i beg you never let me go, i beg you live.

the slowest ever recorded second can be found in the space between the first alarm and the context that follows. immediately assume the worst. and that, tonight, is what i did.

for if it were true, and the dying was indeed assured, i would be without my dearest reader. 

when i was dying this week, my first panic was that i hadn't said goodbye, i hadn't signed off, i hadn't clarified to those who stick around for this bloody blog that they're not who i write for after all. i have time now though. i'm not dying. and he isn't either- my dearest reader, that is. and the longest second ever recorded was melodrama after all. thank god.

get some rest dearest. the world needs you well.