I was still owed an explanation, I thought, but so what? What good was it going to do me? It wouldn't have made me any happier. It was like scratching when you have chicken pox. You think it's going to help, but the itch moves over, and then moves over again. My itch suddenly felt miles away, and I couldn't have reached it with the longest arms in the world. Realizing that made me scared that I was going to be itchy forever, and I didn't want that.
The narrator reflects on the frustration of feeling owed an explanation for their situation, yet realizing that such an explanation wouldn't change their emotional state. They compare the desire for understanding to the futile relief of scratching an itch caused by chicken pox; although it seems soothing initially, it only exacerbates the discomfort. This metaphor illustrates their struggle to find peace and meaning in a troubling circumstance.
As the narrator contemplates the distance between them and the relief they seek, they become increasingly anxious about the permanence of their emotional discomfort. The sense of helplessness intensifies as they fear being trapped in this state indefinitely, highlighting the difficulty of moving past pain and the yearning for closure. Ultimately, this insight brings a mix of fear and resignation, as they grapple with the idea of enduring their pain without resolution.
