death. 14 of 22.

January 6, 2011 Posted by the writer


Accepting it does not solve matters, as one might assume.

Shortly after I left Anthony’s, I was more confident than ever before. Contrary to constructing assurance, this broke down everything I wanted to believe.

Deep down, I always wished to be normal.

I accepted this would never be. I realized complete surrender was my only chance of survival. This was a difficult task for me. Certainly you have heard the common saying, “The truth will set you free.”

I could not imagine a more deceitful phrase.

Regardless of how ingrained my beliefs became, I found myself wishing for ignorance more and more. I wanted to be someone who watched television and attended sporting events. A person who ate fast food and got wasted every Friday and Saturday night.

Why couldn’t you just let that be me?

I knew your arrival grew closer each day, and that I had to speak more with my father.

I wanted to hurt myself. I was tired of changing. This rapid cycle of evolution.

I wanted to have 2.5 children and an SUV I had no use for.

The second chair that I thought might end it all had a scarlet cushion and four splintered legs. I was living in Harlem then. Alone.

I wrote you a letter after I made my decision.

You should be here. Why didn’t you see me? Shouldn’t you be stopping this? Why does it always have to be me?

When a voice intervened, I ignored it at first. I was accustomed to disruption. It was what you said that ended my last attempt of freedom.

“Not now!” you pleaded. “Not yet…”

About the writer

gretchen's brain is preoccupied with words.

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