[ WP ] You wake up , and for the next 24 hours , you ca n't feel pain of any sort . What are you going to do ?

I shave carefully, make sure not to nick my skin. I wo n't feel it, of course, but it will ruin the presentation. 
 
 I take similar care with my clothing. I've been preparing for these glorious twenty-four hours for weeks. The first thing I did was pay an exorbitant amount of money to a personal stylist. She helped pick the outfit. 
 
 More money went, just yesterday, on spending a ridiculous amount at a salon. Worth it though, just like the personal stylist. I've always wanted to say `` money is no object'' in a shop, so that was a bonus. 
 
 I drive carefully too. Again, not for safety reasons, but because it has to be perfect. The car gleams - repainted and cleaned yesterday, while I was getting my first ever pedicure. 
 
 I do n't feel anything as I get out of the car and walk slowly up the path. I can feel my heart thumping against my rib cage, can feel my palms moistening, but that's not me. I simply observe the physical response without being affected by it. 
 
 Twenty-four hours without feeling. No feeling of any kind. No dull pain from a headache or sharp pain from a cut. No nerves or worry. No joy in sunsets or friends, but that's not the important thing. 
 
 It wears off in a day, and then I can feel again. Can have all the sunsets I want. But for these perfect twenty-four hours, I'm free. I've traded a single sunset for the ability to do anything without fear or hesitation. No deep, sucking misery or the agony anxiety. 
 
 And so I'm here. Standing in front of the door, preparing myself for something that's always been too painful to do before. 
 
 I do n't feel anything as I press the buzzer. I do n't feel anything as she opens the door, and her eyes widen in surprise at seeing me. She's symmetrical, and slim, and rounded - on any other day, I'd drink in the sight of her and feel a rush of longing and a slower burn of confusion and nerves. Today I simply notice, and move on. 
 
 I do n't feel anything as I work through my rehearsed speech. There's no twinge of embarrassment as her boyfriend comes and stands behind her, leaning against the door frame. There's no roiling, building fear in my stomach as her expression barely changes with each sentence. There's no unending, piercing pain in my heart as she smiles at me, kindly, and I wait for her answer. 
 
 I stand there, my secret thoughts poured out in front of me, and I feel nothing. No pain. No worry. No fear. It does n't hurt to say the words I've been bottling up for years. I do n't feel anything as I bare my soul in front of her, make myself incredibly, wretchedly vulnerable as I tell her how much she means to me, how much her smile has brightened the last three years, how much I have felt for her on every day except today. 
 
 She speaks, but she does n't have to. I feel nothing as I gaze into her eyes and see the truth. She feels nothing either.
