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Where's Your Fluffy?

It takes a serious amount of pain to make me get out of school and the sharp pain that I was feeling up my spine was defiantly one of them.
It took me everything that I had to drag my poor body out of Mr. Frenchie’s room and into the nurse’s office which seemed to be hundreds of miles away. On the way there I was thinking about how good my bed would have felt at that moment. My back would sick into the cotton of the mattress and after a few hours I would slowly drift off into a slow and meditational sleep, and manage to stay there for the next 4-5 hours and wake up before dad got home. This was something I considered my own personal heaven, and it was calling my name.
After finding the strength to actually walk the miles to get to Mrs. Encouragement’s office, I found myself walking back and forth from the nurse’s, to the office trying to find a way to get home after a stressful phone call to my dad, containing of thoughts that I was going to have to stay here for the rest of the day, knifes in my back and all. I have a reason to believe that the only reason why I ever left my personal h*ll was because Mrs. Encouragement gave me “the benefit of the doubt”, being locked in a hunched over position over her desk just to speak to her.
After 4 phone calls, all 4 of the failures, 1 phone call back to me, and about 10 minutes later, I was in my grandmothers car, feeling the ground below me slide away as I got closer to the bed that I had curiously named “Fluffy”. My grandmother (Memere Francais) was trying to make small talk to me about how the school bags were the fault to what was going on with my back. I just looked at her and nodded as she continued. 2 and a half minutes later, I was looking at the beautiful green house that I called my kingdom. I could almost feel fluffy under my back as I maneuvered my way out of the car as painfully as I could (it was inevitable) and limped over to my door.
Entering the house. I dropped everything and could hear Papa Clean-Up yelling at me in the back of my head, I ignored it and continued off to my room. I quickly undressed and got into an over sized t-shirt and lay in my bed. That’s when I started thinking about life and the pains that we experience in it.
When does all of this pain become too much and we have to quit, go home to our own Fluffy, and hide from the world if not for just one day. What is it about a bed that gives us so much comfort, and the sheets that lay lightly on top of our bodies that gives us a sense of safety that not even our house could provide. Or better yet, is this personal heaven one that could save us, or are we just wasting out time? Is the key to happiness never taking the time to ourselves, or is it taking the right amount of time to reflect? Is it the reflection that keeps us sad, or makes us realize what we need to change.
Hours later I drifted off into a sleep and had a series of weird dreams but some how they all made sense to me and the questions that I had been wondering.
We are who we are. We all know what we need and we all become used to the habits that we have. Some of us need the time to reflect to be able to get better and in a safer place than we were. I need to relax and be able to sleep for hours on end to get happy and be able to go through life with ease, you may need to run and do things active to think straight. No matter how, where, or when you think, we all need to think to be able to get through life with some sort of ease.
Life can be hard and probably confusing at times. We have our own personal ‘back pains’ that we all need to get through, and when the time is right, do you have your own personal Fluffy?



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