Happy Second Anniversary to Us

To my husband, shiefox, on our second wedding anniversary:

Being a poet and writer, I would write you love poetry until the skies exploded and the sun burnt out... but unfortunately our bodies don't live that long. Songs -- and poems -- however, do live forever, and for right now until I can find my own words, I dedicate a few love songs from Mike Scott And The Waterboys, because gods know that band had enough of a hand in getting us here. And they write these better anyway.
I love you eternally.
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storming brainsea

I knew it wouldn't last more than a month.
It's just more under control.
I had one last night, but it was triggered by intense sex, what I like to call "transportive" sex. As we were coming down off the afterglow, I remarked on a rapidly approaching aura, and initiated a conversation to try and temper the strength of the inevitable storm. Adam and I wound up talking about how temporal lobe epilepsy is similar to being able to psychically pull aside a corner of reality from inside one's own mind, stepping into another reality, the way Adam sometimes does. But with epilepsy, there is no control and no guarantee you will wind up where you want to be, it's too random and potentially damaging; hence the need for treatments and medications.
I suppose it was my fault for picking the topic, but my unconscious mind must have grasped onto the concepts while being tossed around in the electrical stormy seas of my neurology. I seized just as Adam began reciting his litany at me, as he watched me tense up and go blank ("Be like water, calm, still water"). I don't remember much, there are holes in the memory. I remember staring at the wall and watching a black vortex with stars open up and start to spin. I felt as though a corner of the universe was being pulled away like a page in a book. I was being pulled toward that vortex. When I came out of it, I was looking at the side of the mini fridge and the white box next to it, which had vanished when my perception of reality had shifted. I asked Adam what we had been talking about, and he was silent for a minute. I wasn't able to interpret that silence. Then he told me that memory is often like a pond, that things sink to the dark deep bottom, and all I had to do was make the water as calm and still as possible, and search for what I had lost until it floated to the surface. After a few minutes of concentration, I was able to do so, and I remembered most of the conversation. So, yay. I will use that trick often now.
I'm going to classify this one in the middle, between "euphoria" seizures and "terror" seizures. It will be known as a "reality bending" seizure. It's the first of its kind.