And thus my knee was broken.
It hurt. I could not remember anything as painful. I could not imagine anything as painful. I cried. It was not only the pain. It was the uncertainty. The uncertainty, above all. I knew right away it was not just another injury. I was certain.
The surgery went well, they told me. It is a matter of time. I was on a hard cast for a few everlasting months. It was tedious, boring. My friends kept stealing smiles from me. My pillow was wet every morning. I could not handle the impotence of not being able to move by myself. Lack of freedom. Stones.
Physical therapy came later. Having to learn again. Frustration and hope. One fall after the other. Stand up and try again. One more time. All of a sudden, the glass is not half empty anymore. All of a sudden, the glass is half full. Of a dark purple full bodied wine that opens with an aromatic menthol like bouquet with faint hints of cherry, and feels very smooth as it enters the mouth and quickly dries out the palate. Savory.
Once everything was over, it was still not. I missed the one I were. I was still afraid and it still hurt. It takes time and strength to let oneself be vulnerable again. I did not want to push myself to the limit. The fear was always there and I did not want it to happen again. Not again.
And then, suddenly, it is as gone as it is not, as it is always with you. And I remember it with a smile every single time I look down and see the stitches on my knee. I know that was for real. It is. I know it will never go away. Some wounds are forever. Just like the notch you leave in my heart. Just like the one I leave in yours. Magnetic fields and uncertain paths. And by the end of the day, the wondering, and the puzzle pieces. The damn puzzle pieces that are nothing without each other...