a kind of tenderness

wells up in me towards my body when it gets sick.

Especially towards the parts I most count on for work - hands and voice. I realize how hard I drive them, how much I expect from them, how little attention and care I offer in return. Today, as I nurse my mute sore throat, breathe deep and slow to stave off coughing, I think: If someone treated me, in a relationship, the way I treat my body, I'd dump them.