February, that short little month, sure felt a little bit longer this year. The ups and downs have been relentless, and words have been hard to find. I discovered what it means to truly just feel “numb.” A wise woman told me, “In order to let it go, you have to put it out there,” so here is my attempt….
Outside a bar on a Saturday night, I was totally off my game. A man approached me, uniformed, and he pushed me against the wall. I held his arms, but was too stunned to try to speak. He slid me down the wall, and whispered warnings in my ear. He opened up his pants and tightly held my hair. A humiliating plight it was, but at least it wasn’t worse. I don’t know how it happened, I am always so aware. I now carry a blade with me everywhere I go.
I flew some thousand miles “home,” just to be reminded, that this is not where I belong. I love my family dearly, but in them I see everything I truly hate about myself. My tiny town has been mistreated. People are afraid. Drugs and drinking are boredom crushers. Guns are everywhere. The people here are lifeless, hopeless, and worst of all voiceless. A very dear friend was killed last week, and the killer is still free. I know 9 years is a long time to be away, but my heart still wants to help.
We will lay our friend to rest tomorrow, then I want to leave February behind, I want to honestly, soberly, say , “I’m fine.”
discourse of atelophobia 