Whispers in the schoolyard are all in my head. The looks up and down, a mixture of pity and “I’m glad it’s not me”, they’re all in my head. A mother says to another mother under her breath “I don’t know what I’d do”. You can ask me. I’ll tell you. I dispense naked honesty like water from a fountain.
What you do is question a lot…like everything. What you do is cry a lot, sometimes right there in the middle of Target. What you do is pray a lot and listen a lot. And what you do is love a lot.
Because this life I’ve chosen has no room for victims. And that’s why your voices, your judgments are only in my head. It’s not real…the pain, the fear, the anger. It’s all a dense and muddled smokescreen obscuring the safety of a Love so fierce it knows no opposite. It knows nothing but Itself.
I take it with me as I walk through the schoolyard knowing how many people I still have to tell, how many people may have opinions of their own. I take it with me and remember they’re all me. We do this together. We deny until it hurts too bad and then we soothe until we’re ready to heal.
And I don’t want to change you. I want to go with you. I’m already walking, but I know you’ll catch up. I feel your breath on my neck and I know we’re almost there. And maybe, my sister, maybe we never left.