It hit while I was at work. My attention was split and one part of me was updating logs and mailing response packets while the other part of me was [back in formerly forgotten territory].
When the vision didn’t end quickly, I excused myself and locked myself in the bathroom. The singing in my blood drowned out the eager air conditioner roar as I braced myself against the wall and forced myself to hold fast and not be swept up in [what else] I was seeing in the vision.
My blood felt heated to the point of boiling and only my anger upon realizing the context of the vision kept me from surrendering to it.
Fuck you. I walked away. I was thrown away. Don’t try that baby-come-back-I-love-you shit on me. You had your fucking chance, you let me be rekd, and you only showed interest after I survived.
The vision receded to a soft chorus better suited for an old elevator than a mystic’s memory. Enough that I knew I could finish the work day and only be slightly grouchy for the experience.
Of course, I immediately run into Boss and Trouble1 who make a tag-team comment they thought was fun and innocent but served to completely blow out any vestiges of heat and shut down the vision with a vicious executing blow.
My blood turned cold and the [vision] completely left me. It was all I could do to keep from crawling under my desk whimpering in fear of abandonment and exposure to things that the [light from the vision] was keeping away from me.
Instead, I spent the rest of the afternoon muttering various profanities under my breath and wondering by what mechanisms could [this vision] be visited upon me because I’m not that person any more, I’m not that faith any more, and I refuse to be [a toy] any more.
I didn’t realize how much I have changed.