A Frozen Caregiver, or a Deer Caught

Nobody was really
surprised when it happened,
not really, not on the subconscious
level where savage things grow.

-- Stephen King

I am a deer, caught in headlights. For the past few days, I have wandered around the house, around town, startled, frozen, blocked, unable to do much of anything.

What's going on? What to do? All I know is that I don't care. I simply want to be caught in the headlights. I want the light to shower me, to drench me, to cleanse and heal me. I'll sit here in the dark and let everything that's happened with Romeo these past five years hit me again. Without consciously knowing what I'm doing, I'll take everything, gnaw on it, love it, and let the light shine on it.

My eyes blink, but I can't move. I don't move my eyelids. Someone, something else moves them. My mind talks to me, but it's not me talking. It says, "Stay. Stay frozen. Let things wash over you. You don't need to do anything. Just stay frozen." Easy to do, since I'm caught in the headlights and can't move.

I ask my mind, "How long will this last? How long will I be frozen?"

"It doesn't matter."

And I suppose it doesn't. I am too frozen to care. The headlights shine on me. I remain still. But I know now that I am startled. I am surprised to be in this situation. To have been thrown into the role of caregiver to a new husband, before the honeymoon was over. If the headlights had spotlighted me during that first year we were together, would I have stayed with it all this time? I don't know. Too much to think about right now. I just want to be with it here, immobilized.