Dealing with Pain, Part One

I

I met him the night before Thanksgiving.
He introduced himself like all the others,
Tipped his hat, indicated that he was a product of new change
But failed to mention his proclivity for overstaying his welcome

That weekend, we became acquainted, though I had no intention of letting him stay for long
(I prefer a solitary existence within my mind)
He spoke with a bitter smile forever flickering on his face,
Never fading, but winding from bright to dull at strange intervals

And he stayed. He set his baggage down and began to speak. He spoke long through the night and into the morning and on through through the next day, into Monday and Wednesday and Saturday, rolling thought the vestiges of November, winked once at Santa Claus, gave no gift of reprieve on Valentine's Day, played the same constant trick on April Fools and ushered in the goodbyes and sweet sun of summer.

II

Kind, sir,
Though I do not know your original reason for being here, I humbly ask that remove yourself from my noggin, vacate the premises of my mind, and never, ever, not once, return. Not only have you wasted my time and energy, but you have sullied my thinking, knocked down my dreams and seem at times to hold them far too tightly. I fear that you may throttle them in time if you do not relieve your presence and pressure.

No? No, you say! Well, that simply will not do! You must leave, you must! I can no longer stand your company. I was too kind to say it when you first arrived, but you are unwelcome, sir. You are most unwelcome. You and all your kin. So, you see, I no longer want you here. So, get out!

No? No, again! I warn you, sir, if you refuse to leave of your own volition, I will put an end to you violently. You may know the tactics of Aleve and Tylenal, but I assure you there are other ways to fight you, ways that may force you out through relaxation, good feelings, and raw, nauseating steroids. Will you not cry off your attack on my cranium? No, no I see that you will not. Well, then, I will rain heaven and hell down upon you, sir.

III

Day 214: The fight continues. I will burn this fucker to the ground.