It’s like working on a jigsaw puzzle, making sure that every bone piece fits into each other. And some day, I’ll have a smooth skull that will look like new. Yet, the cracks will always remain invisible to the eye but visible to the eyes of my imagination and dreams. That’s why, when darkness comes, it brings a new, unfamiliar feeling – a vague fear.
Perhaps the day will come when seizures will be rare; when I’ll be able to speak more clearly, and drink without coughing, and move my arm, and open and shut my fingers with ease, and walk (with the help of a cane, but walk in any case); and when fear will be impossible to evoke. Perhaps the day will come when my skull cracks will be invisible to me.