Eyelashes

It's time to talk about eyelashes.

Since I was a child, eyelashes would constantly get into my eyes. These would be my own eyelashes, not somebody else's, though it has happened once or twice. In any case, my eyelashes have always found a way to disturb my daily activity, be it work, or play. They also find a way to disturb my sleep.

This particular scenario happens about a couple times a week. I'll be sleeping, dreaming, doing whatever it is that I do in my dreams, when suddenly I wake up to a sharp, erratic pain. I open my eyes to the darkness when my lids force shut of their own volition. I have to consciously will them to stay open when this happens.

In the darkness, I climb out of bed and make my way to the restroom, my eye burning, watering, my nose filling with liquid, stumbling, stubbing my toes, until finally I reach that which I've sought. I turn on the light, and upon the initial brightness to which I have not yet had time to adjust, my eyes shut.

The attacked eye stings, for the eyelash is somewhere upon my lid, and each time the lid closes, the lash stabs directly into the area of my pupil, causing strict consequence. The problem here is that the eyelid shuts automatically to protect the eye, but what attacks the eye is within the lid itself, so my own protective mechanism dooms me.

By this time, I am trying to adjust to the light, and, as I am standing barefoot upon the cold restroom tile, I now have to urinate. So I let my bladder loose, daring not touch my eye, trying to keep it open. The pain doesn't dissipate, only remains stern. I finish, flush the toilet, and wash my hands thoroughly--certainly, my finger will soon be rubbing my eye and I do wish for cleanliness.

I dry my hands and look in the mirror. Half-adjusted to the light, I see my open eye, red and watering... I can visually see the itch that my senses absorb. I search for the eyelid using both the unharmed eye and the attacked eye. When my eye seeks, it moves, and when it moves, the lash indicates its location by scratching my eye. I see it, half stabbing, half hanging upon the edge of my lid. I reach up, careful not to let my short fingernail touch my eye.

I sort of scratch, sort of flick at my eyelid with one finger while my other hand holds it open. By this time I'm breathing through my mouth because my nose is full of mucus. I flick the lash until it falls... directly into the center of my eye, to which my eyelids shut and the pain extends into a dark flashing of green orbs, shaped like that which I was previously observing. I reach for a tissue, blow my nose, wash my hands again, my eyes still closed. I force them open while I dry my hands. I try again, this time the lash is in the white of my eye. The pain fades as I poke the white, hoping the lash sticks to my finger.

Eventually, it does.

I go to lay down, but after that mess, I am no longer tired.