Let's Head Down to the Shoreline and Wash off all this Blame

Swim out past the breakers just to curse the maker's name.

What a night. I don't mean it. I don't mean to be sensitive and fragile and whatever... But I am. And I don't think I'd change that. I was counseled tonight to stop feeling everything so deeply. You can do that. You are conditioned to do that. I won't and I don't want to. Stephen asked me if I knew how many in the past four years. I think he said 64. I remember how cold he was when I first brought it up. You can get desensitized. I know. 

I heard tonight that a girl I spent an evening with Saturday bashing her ex, well, he died. Suicide. I can't change the face I have. So I just excused myself to go sit down. I went to the office and ugly cried. I never even met the guy. He was not mine to save. Not that I could have. Not that anyone could have. But thank God I still feel it. She's gentle and sweet and beautiful and this perfect little Southern belle. My whole heart breaks for her. I guess if we get particular, Jay and I were broken up too. His idea. He was moving away. In his mind, I'm sure he was trying to soften the blow. I think this girl broke up with him. I live with survivor's guilt every day. I can't  place myself in her shoes. All I can do is ache.

I probably have another hour. Silly, huh? Balm. I never thought someone who hadn't experienced what I have could feel...safe. I could think of a million words to talk about what I'm feeling in regards to that. But "safe" is the most concise. Hemingway would approve. I missed it last night and my mind ran wild with the worst. But never the in-between. It never occurred to me until sometime this afternoon that it never occurred to me in the panic of it all. But it did make me realize I need a conversation.

Four folks came to check on me. I didn't want that. What I wanted was not to be a downer. I just excused myself so that my hurt was quieter. I am so used to that. Only one was who I wanted to check. And love him as I might, he said all the wrong things. He's seen it. Proof that what you want isn't always what you need. And sometimes wishing for "that but a little different" is far more precise. And that moment made me realize that I'm precisely where I ought to be. Every time I get so close to quitting, I'm reminded why I am where I am. When do you let go? When you find something that makes you realize that what you've been doing isn't what you want. Thank God.

We're approaching that other anniversary. I miss my Daddy. I know where I'll be and I know I'll feel safe and comfortable. He would have loved that. All of what's happening now makes me ache for him. I know there isn't a thing I could do to save any of them past. But present and future I feel so intensely. I wonder where he'd have stood. And for some reason, I feel like I know. And my baby brother feels that way too, but on the other side.

The first question the person who was there who knows me the best asked was what I've eaten today. Then how much water I'd had. I have taught them a few things, at least. Today was supposed to be the death of one thing and it turned into the death of someone else entirely. And I'm reminded what I'm doing here. I was so close to quitting. And at least one person, when told that, thought I meant on this planet. Oh no. I have so much to live for. I have so much to do. Hopefully, that includes some BUV for Tina Turner? I can't save anyone except myself.

Let me hurt in peace. If I let you see the hurt, you're in. But if I walk away to hurt, let me be. Otherwise, I'll just feel obligated to help you feel better about me. It's double-duty for my own grief and yours. Let me hurt in peace when I go away to do it. I'll be alright. I'm okay. I'm always okay; it's part of my charm.

The point of all that is that I have to stay the course. As it all falls apart and my faith wavers, I always get a reminder that this is where I should be. Remind me of that when I look around and see desolation. If it's meant to be, a reminder will come. I don't think I'll ever know if that is me looking for it or if it's the universe sending me a sign. This fella was a metaphor. No one understood why it hit so hard. No one knew how close I was to quitting. Not life, ffs. Just the work I've done over the past year plus. I am exhausted. If we could get a few more like the ones who pour us into this. Tenacity is the answer.

For the first time tonight, a regular handed me the donation he makes to every meeting. He's been coming for a year. I don't know, that feels like something. I am a woman. I am not a veteran. But me a couple others are the slow, sleeping breaths of this place. I rarely get that acknowledgement. I sit as the board member with the longest tenure here. I feel like I've proven myself and stood the test of time again and again. The people afraid that I'd leave and voiced it, have mostly left. The ones who inspired me are still around. Almost always. Of course, I've missed fewer meetings in the past year. I've missed one. And I had just been diagnosed with flu A that day. I didn't want to share that and I was also kind of dying. It was worth it. I never thought I'd be okay with missing one for my own human weakness. I never even missed one when I had coronavirus, bronchitis, RSV, and an ear infection. Never missed a week. My heart is here. I never do anything halfway. If it's worth doing, it's worth whole-assing. That's my Mama talking.

She also told me when I got married, "Be careful what you do for a man because if you'll do it, he'll let you." She meant don't do anything you don't want to do always. That ain't just a romantic thing. A man will let you. Most of them. Some of them will step up and do better. Those will spoil you. Let them. It's not asking too much. I promise. Make no mistake, I don't mean allow it to be one-sided. Spoil them back. Two people who have never been treated right are phenomenal together.

I hope I sleep. I may not sleep until Friday. I'm okay with that. I'll sleep like I never have and I sure can use it. My safe place. The place I go for understanding. Happy. Less writing, more happy.