himadhaman

i tell people i used to fence, and they treat it like i used to play soccer after school. I don't know. i never played soccer after school. i know people who did, and they don't wake up at night missing their soccer balls, as far as i know.

when i close my eyes, i can feel the mask on my face. deep breath, loud in my ears. my hand is empty, but i can close it and feel the grip, and suddenly my arm is three feet longer.

i picked up a foil for the first time when i was twelve. i didn't put it down until i was 19. for those seven years, it wasn't a hobby. it wasn't a past time. it wasn't just a sport. for a kid who liked nothing and no one, the strip was home.

my whole life was two meters wide by sixteen long. my world was the weapon in my hand, and the weapon in my opponents.

i'm 22 now. nearly 23. its been four years since i could call myself a fencer. four years, and im still afraid of any world bigger than that 2 by 16. on nights like tonight, when it feels like i'm surrounded by deception and confusion, i long for the simplicity of the strip. i miss knowing that the person in front of me was my enemy. i miss that being all that mattered.

i tell people i used to fence, and they treat it like i used to play varsity soccer. i don't know how to tell people that what i really mean is that i've only been a human being for four years. that i spent the years most people spent learning how to socialize learning how to get my weapon to an opponents chest two seconds faster.