I have a strong urge to watch home movies from when I was a little kid. I want to hear your voice. I know hearing your voice will only make me sad, so I stop myself. I'm 23 years old and I don't understand. I don't understand why you are the way you are or how I ended up here or why I have all these confusing emotions.
Sometimes, I want to write about everything honestly. I want to write about pain and destruction. I want to talk about floods of tears and shaking in fear. I want to be honest. I want the world to know the truth.
Parts of me are afraid if I write honestly I will lose any chance of ever hearing your voice again. I want to hold onto the possibility of you sitting by my hospital bed after surgery and giving me hugs every night before you leave, because there are some things I can't imagine doing without you.
When all this first happened I could never imagine doing home IVs by myself. To be honest, I couldn't imagine doing much of anything without talking to you, first. I talked to you multiple times daily. I used you as a crutch to limp along. As I am finishing my first round of home IVs without you, I am free. I feel alive and happy. I know I can do anything - even if I have to do it without ever hearing your voice again. And that knowledge and belief in myself should be enough to allow myself to write freely about things I need to write about.
But most days, I would rather hear your voice, so I don't write honestly.
My Very True and Important Book Report on Charlotte’s Web, Part One - [image: charlotte_featured] While we have all been motivated to take on more of an activist role in our daily lives, we also need some intermittent distract...
6 months ago