all soul no body

Hello everyone. I hope you are well. Sorry for the silence.

I’m in Rome now. Something has happened. I can’t tell exactly what is wrong. I ended up in this ancient city named Sperlonga outside of Rome. We took a train and a bus. The bus from the train station to the town only came once an hour so it was packed with sweat and hot bodies. It took me about fifteen minutes to notice the woman with a cleft lip holding a puppy. I asked her what the dog was named and she said Satana. Satan. 

The town was beautiful. A wide beach spilling out of a hilltop city built upon itself and nothing else. The narrow streets, far too small for cars, wound through one another and dead ended when they desired. The place existed outside of space and time. It was built and rebuilt over time to weather the storms. The stones were packed tight and the ground was strong like a grandfather. I called my mom from a seaside cafe and told her that I had surely never had a problem in my life. She laughed and I laughed and the waves did not crash, they fell. 

A random street in Sperlonga.

On the bus back to the train station, I began to feel the heat of the day shooting through my veins. Surrounded by Italian middle school children, I stood on the bus staring out at the countryside trying to do anything but throw up. I was motion sick. That’s been happening a lot these days. Every stop the bus made felt like a complete reset. I closed my eyes and thought of a glacier melting, skinning a deer, falling into a cloud, anything to keep me from vomiting and passing out. I somehow made it onto the train back to Rome. I was nauseated and my head was throbbing. On the train, my friends talked about their personalities, their relationships, and their romances and I fell completely out of myself. It happened somewhat suddenly. My whole self removed from my body. My head felt dense, but floating. My arms and legs were cold and my face felt foreign. I began to overheat and then froze. 

By the time the train had arrived in Rome, the feeling of woozy disconnection had gotten exponentially worse. I was dragged through the train station quietly murmuring water. We made it onto the metro and then another metro and then into a cab and then into a Lebanese restaurant. A mother screamed on the train and I heard her screaming until I stepped foot into the emergency room. I told the nurse I was throwing up and felt dizzy and I had this rash and she laughed. I tried to tell her what was wrong in my broken Italian and she told the other nurses something and they all laughed too. They gave me a cardboard bedpan to vomit in and told me to go home. I could hardly walk at this point, so I sat in the pre-triage waiting room bent over the bedpan begging myself to throw up the Powerade and water that was in my stomach. Someone with bandages on her wrists sat next to me and gestured like she couldn't breathe. My throat burned from stomach acid, so I could hardly tell her that I was sorry. 

In principio era la fine by Nicola Samori

I made it back to my residence later that night and ate and threw up some more and fell asleep. The next morning I felt less sick, but that same familiar feeling of disconnection came over me. All soul no body. Floating above myself. I had fallen asleep in front of everyone. I slept for another twenty hours. Today I awoke at noon, exhausted and confused. My head feels like it is bobbing in the water and I hear white noise. Everything feels distant. I’ve been here before. This kind of intimate dissociation is an old friend of mine. It’s what my body does when it is overwhelmed with some virus or sun poisoning or something. I’m dying from the inside out. I’ve been eating crackers and drinking water. I stumbled through a hot flea market earlier and asked an old lady for a cigarette. I ate some food and drank some water, but nothing helped. The scariest part is that I feel like this is forever.

I’m so sorry I’ve been gone. I’ve been between asleep and awake. Something happened at dinner and now my house feels different. We got rid of all the alcohol. Grandma got sick, Grandpa got sicker. I would tell you how I am, but I can’t tell. I got lost in the eternal city. I can’t seem to find my hands. Everyone keeps telling me to drink more water. I swear to God I’m drinking water. I can’t wait to wake up.

Life is lovely when you are done living it. Something like that at least. I found myself in Italy falling for a straight man. At this point, falling in love feels a lot more like taking a cold shower. There is no storybook for me. I’m left with hits from his cigarette, sips of his beer, and inside jokes. I want to be here. I want to be able to feel better, but I think this may be forever. I need a year. I need a year alone. I need a year alone in the woods. I need a year alone in the woods near water. I need water. I need to be alone in the water. Mom told me to never swim alone. I need cold water. I need to swim alone. I think I’m waiting for the moment when my soul meets my body. I can’t rush this. There are storm clouds rushing in. The sky is gray even over Rome. I promise you gray finds itself anywhere. I am writing to myself. You will find yourself flying through the wilderness. You are clinging to water.

I want to feel better so I can tell my mom I feel better. I’m not sick, I’m flying. I promise.

Rome is beautiful and hot. I love the people and I miss the sea. The Tiber runs gray and the city is filled with trash. There are fountains with clean water everywhere and homeless people with no legs begging for a Euro. I’ve picked up enough Italian to get around, but you really do not need to know what the people here are saying to know what they mean. They gesticulate enough to let you know from a mile away. I love it here. No one cares. They take their time because it is theirs to take. I feel guilty walking around the streets. I feel like people like me are ruining this place. Beauty persists. I will kiss the ground.