As I lay limp, on the cold bathroom floor, post-vomit, with that sharp, unmistakable acid taste in my mouth, I thought: I just wish someone would bring me a cup of water.
Who could I call out to?
And for the first stomach-flu moment of my life, the answer was: no one. I was all alone, in the middle of the night, on the bathroom floor.
The roads were all iced over from that day’s ice storm, and it was 8 degrees outside. No one could come, not even an ambulance.
Shaky, I pulled myself up by the sink, turned one wrinkled hand into a makeshift cup, and splashed water on my mouth, throat, and cheek. I stared at myself in the mirror, and I looked awful.
By morning, after multiple deeply humbling trips to the toilet, I woke up wrapped in sweaty sheets. From my bed, I watched families walk by pulling sleds on the freshly fallen snow. Couples held hands. Dogs frolicked. Children laughed. It was a snow-globe scene of togetherness, and I was inside trying to decide if the kitchen was a survivable distance for me to go and get a cup.
I had time to think.
My husband died.
My child left.
I’m 51.
I live alone with cats.
The money went to caregiving and starting over.
There were faint but undeniable trails of vomit down my cheek.
Do I need a partner so I’m not all alone in life? Would anyone even want to be with me? … or do I just need a cup?
Lying there, I began mentally comparing the attributes of a cup versus a man.
A cup, if I put one in the bathroom, is always there for me.
A man is… statistically less reliable.
A cup never asks questions.
A man sometimes asks dumb questions mid vomit, like: what’s happening?
A cup never says, You don’t spend enough time with me. A man has expectations.
A cup fits perfectly in my bathroom and does not touch, move, or rearrange any of my shit. It also does not put it’s hairs in the sink. A man – does all of those things.
A cup does exactly what I want it to do.
A man does many things, some of which I say in my head: WTF?!?
So yes. I’ve thought this through.
I think instead of getting a man, I’ll just get a cup.
Because, besides the stomach flu, I’m pretty good right now. It’s not that I don’t think men or partners are great. They have their wonderful attributes, but I’ve had men, and right now in my life, I just need a cup. And right now in my life, I have a cup.
It’s all perfect.
Besides the stories that swirl in my head sometimes, of how it is not at all perfect, how it’s my fault or their fault, how there’s something wrong with me or them, and how in the future I will die alone on the bathroom floor… it’s actually pretty great.
So my Loves, happy F#@# Valentines day, whatever that means to you. I hope it means, you can see, that besides the stories in your head, you’re okay. You’re loved and supported by many things. They just sometimes, or most of the times, are not how we would control the Universe to happen.
I know. Me too.
I love you all. We are loved, even by cups and bathroom floors that hold us.
From my cup to yours,
Mehera
Tip:
“When we fight with reality, we lose, but only 100% of the time.” Byron Katie
This is one of my favorite quotes and is where so much of my suffering comes from. I think I should be in charge and control the Universe!
Sometimes, when I’m lucky, I can see that I’m actually okay. I have what I need. I just need a cup, and right now, I have a cup.
Where in your life are you fighting with reality? Can you see one little way you have what you need? Do you have a cup? What’s your metaphoric cup? How are you being supported, even if it is by the cold bathroom floor?
I think the cup wins!
I think the cup wins! Test
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