In a reverie, only, I visited a place which, in my mind I could use a visitors pass and leave at will, but as I lived it, I was allowed no such luxury. It felt like Alcatrez. There was no way out, it could only be endured, so it was then, but in my revisiting I ducked out the point where others started telling me about myself. If you ever experience it, you will understand how unpleasant it was. I bet being shot would be less painful because though probably more intense, it was quick.
Ok, now is when I am going to explain what happened. Post premature emergency c-section (the first time) I was recovering and trying to make sense out of what was going on. I was in a hospital room, not sure where or why, but I was enjoying some cranberry hello. I did not know much, but I knew that it felt nice to eat, until... My husband entered and took it from me, but I honestly did not even know who he was. He acted familiar though and called me by my name and I liked that, too. He said, "You really hate Jello, Melissa. What were you doing?"
Now, that I can think and eat solid food whenever I want, I still wonder if I like Jello or was just overly hungry. All I learned from that was that I do not like to be told a thing. I prefer to have a good reason, and sometimes, I prefer to do something that intellectually seems odd, but has a reason that I cannot deny.
