“I’m sorry, explain this ridiculous theory to me again, Walters?”
“Look Governer, the idea is that when you physically suffer pain, all of your internal agony, mental or emotional, is temporarily drawn to that area that is suffering…”
“In other words?..”
“In other words, stub your toe while you’re suffering from depression, and a minute, toe-sized part of that emotional destitution will be drawn to that aching toe for a short period of time.”
“Wha-what are the implications of this phenomina?”
“The implication, my dear Governer, is choice… If you were feeling an all-mighty, soul-crushing grief from the loss of a loved one, well, just break your arm, give it a few ticks’, then lop it off with a rapier. You’ll be physically sore for a week or so, and hand-less of course, but you’ll definitely feel better about your loss. People can now choose to sacrifice bits and pieces of their bodies in order to bring themselves internal peace.”
“What is the source of this madness, this curse that has befallen us. How did the world come to know such devilry?”
“We believe one man has caused this change sir, a pauper. It’s thought that this man was so desperate to rid himself of his agony, his lifetime of loss and regret, that he was able to manifest this deal against the nature of things. His mantra? Why shouldn’t we be able to cut out emotional, toxic cancer at its source…”
“Nothing can come of this unnatural thing Walters, do you hear me? Human beings are made to live with the pain of things, it’s God’s will, it’s the natural order of things.”
“But… why, sir? Why does it have to be? I have PTSD from the war, I lay there every single night, trapped inside of a waking nightmare. Why shouldn’t it be MY choice to give up a finger or a foot in order to extinguish my living hell? Or what about Jenkins here…”
“Hey, Governer”
“Shut up Jenkins. Jenkins lost a daughter the winter before last, he lives with that sorrow every day, he-“
“As he is supposed to!”
Sighs “I am afraid we must reject your view Governer, we are men born of pain, we deserve this choice. Step down, Governer.”
“Never, I fight for the way of all things and those that oppose it. I’ve earned the pain that I feel, it is not something to be discarded, but appreciated.”
“Jenkins, I’m going to need you to punch me in my left ear in a few minutes.”
“What, why?”
“Because I’m going to want to be absconded of the guilt that I will feel, for killing the Governer. I am sorry Sir, I, have always respected you. You are worth my ear, if not more.”
“Then we draw swords.”
“Then we do, Sir, then we do…”
So, which limb would you let go of? A little, iddy-biddy pinkie toe?
Or, is that hole inside of you so deep, that crevice so dark and fractured, that the next time that I see you, you will be limb-less, nose-less, eye-less and, well, you get the picture…
Or perhaps the Governer was right and you are just perfect the way you are, encumbrances on your heart n’ all, my friend.
May you never be forced to choose between life and limb.