You ever sit down to write something but cannot finish it? Something so painful that it literally hurt to press another key. I just experienced that. I had to stop writing due to tears in my eyes and, literal, pain in my heart and mind.
Life is short. Our time together was short lived and now is a memory. What would I say if I could go back? What would I do I knowing time was short and you would be gone? Would I have hidden you? Could I have done that?
I barely knew you then. I feel I know you better now than then. It hurts to think about you, what might have been, what could have been. You had dreams, you had hopes, you had life.
I have lived in a few states from the South to the North to the West Coast. That was all before I became an adult at which time I settled down to just moving around one state from time to time as I changed jobs. I hate spending hours in a car to get to a place where I will spend more hours away from home just to get in a car for hours to go home.
I am not bragging. This stuff hurts. It affects you in ways you have no idea about. It is not a badge of honor. It is not something to take lightly, and those that experience this stuff, they understand that.
I hate people that do those ‘drama’ posts. Like, I am sorry, we are all on this ride with you so give us enough information or get ready for comments asking for it. With that in mind, here is a bit of info on what happened. Last night, I had a bad dream, a night terror if you will. You see, 35 years ago this year I had a friend and her family ripped out of my life. They were taken by some awful people. They hurt her. She was not even in school; she was 5 years old. She would have been 41 years old this year. That never happened. She was ripped from this world before she had her first kiss. Prom. Sweet 16 birthday. Getting to legally drink on her 21st birthday. She never got to marry, have kids, and grow old. All over some mistakes made before she was even born. A check written before she was even a thought in her parents minds was cashed that day in California.
October 5th, 1986 her life “officially” ended. The day my life changed forever. A day I will probably never forget. I cannot remember what I had for lunch (whole other story there) but I can remember that night 35 years ago like it was last night. Part of me was there last night. It hit me like a Mack truck on the Interstate. It was a horrible feeling.
The first person I asked for help was there. Thank you Emmaneul. You are my brother, man. We will meet one day and damnit, that is going to be great day.
People that reach out are the most vulnerable in their lives at that point. They are not always at “self harm” depths though. Sometimes they need help getting grounded again. Sometimes they just need “an ear” to talk to. Sometimes they need someone to slap them back to reality with hard facts.
The problem lays in the fact that there is no clear-cut way to tell what they need. Just start with an ear. Let them talk because what they are telling you must get out. They cannot keep it bottled up any longer.
