Limbo

I willingly participate in the game of Limbo. I hold the wooden stick in my hands while my body shimmies underneath it, over and over again. The game begins with a steady chant - how low can you go, how low can you go. My back then attempts to bend as a gymnast who is mastering the balance beam at the Olympics. My gaze remains locked on the ceiling. My hair dangles from my scalp, sweeping the floor. The chant quickens, crescendoes - HOW LOW CAN YOU GO, HOW LOW CAN YOU GO! The intensity pushes me further into the tricks and twists of Limbo. My determination to triumph over Limbo clouds my judgment. My lack of balance and flexibility leads me to fall flat on my ass.

I always manage to pick myself up. My ass and ego bruised. And I always engage in Limbo again because the promises of prizes and triumph entice me. I found myself dancing Limbo with Elijah after our break-up.

I lay on my bed watching Elijah pack up his Rowan sweater, blue sweat pants, and a pair of blue and green checkered pajama pants. He folded each item of clothing and zipped up his black duffel bag. I lifted my head from the pillowcase, wiped away the dampness from my cheeks, and picked up the envelope on my nightstand.

"I developed the pictures I took when Ingrid was here and we all went out," I said.

I handed him the envelope and watched his fingers pull out the pictures. I studied Elijah's gaze as he focused on one particular shot: Elijah standing behind me. His arms wrapped around my small frame. His smile wide and eyes beaming.

"This is a really nice picture," he said.

"Yeah. We were really happy," I replied.

He looked up at me, smiled a toothless smile unlike the picture in his hands and said:

"Sujeiry, I hope this doesn't ruin the chances of us getting back together. I eventually want to get back together with you."

I stood there. Relief washing away my fear of loosing him. I felt hopeful, almost happy because I believed his words, the sincerity in his eyes. Elijah picked up his duffel bag, placed it on his right shoulder and stood there, waiting for my response.

"It won't ruin it. I know you care about me. But we'll just have to see what happens," I replied.

I walked Elijah to the door, knowing what would happen. That I would wait for his return. We kissed goodbye. I stood there as he walked down the stairs with his duffel bag. The cold December air hit my bare feet; I shivered. My back leaned against the open door as I closed my eyes and imagined our eventual reunion. I closed my eyes. The chanting began - how low can you go, how low can you go . Slow and steady. I closed my eyes and envisioned myself beating Limbo.