Six Months Later Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I stared out the cracked and dirty windshield of my battered car with a sense of

futility and exhaustion, at the bright duplex in front of me. The one story building

looked out of place in the run down neighborhood.  The neat yard and soft yellow

paint with white trim was cheerful compared to the sad and plain buildings around

it. 

I watched as a young mother with her daughter unloaded a U-haul.  These must be

the new neighbors, moving into their new place. They were laughing and singing

along with the song that was blaring from the CD player on the fountain in the

middle of the courtyard. They looked like the kind of people who should be making

their home here.  I did not believe in the idea of home, and did not use that word in

my own mind for me.  This was where I waited. Just another place on the map.  No

connections, a place to hide, a den to lick my wounds.

Six months had passed since that horrible day, when my world had come crashing

down around me.  Crushed by a crises that I could not avoid.  No actions could

have saved me.  I saw that now. 

"No don't think", I said to myself.  "Keep going."

I had managed to continue to breath during those first horrible weeks.  I had been

sure I would die of a broken heart - dying for true love, a soul mate works in books,

real life is not that kind.  My emotions had died, but my body was still going.

Mindlessly in an endless circle.

I barely noticed the spotless sidewalk with its strip of flowers on each side as I

approached the building. I did note the new neighbors across the courtyard looking

towards me hopefully. My head down I approached my front door, I did not give

them another thought. Not much penetrated the numbness around me. I quickly

pushed open the door, and shut it.  I was living with a death wish, I saw no reason

to lock the door. 

I put my groceries on the counter between the kitchen and the living room and

adjusted the thermostat so the air-conditioning kicked on.  I was not hot, but it

drowned out the sounds of music and laughter outside.  I was strangely sensitive to

sound, I never listened to music, or watched TV, I needed the cocoon of silence to

help me keep from flying off into a million different directions.


Work was a place to spend some time.  I did not dislike my job, I just wanted to do

the work and come home. The hardest part of the job was the people. They were

nice and outgoing.  Not my cup of tea. They did not seem to expect much from me.

Except to attend meetings, and participate.  I struggled on the  days when I

interacted with my co-workers.  I could not stand to be around people.  After the

first couple of weeks, everyone had gotten the message and they did not invite me

to go to lunch or out for drinks afterwards anymore.  That was fine with me. I was

grateful, they kept it professional.  It was all I could handle.

I would not be surprised if my family, or my former friends would ever think of me

kindly again.  I was certain that they would not speak to me again.  I had made

sure of that. I shuddered at the things I had done. I had seen the hurtful words,

lashing out and systematically pushing everyone away, but had not been able to

stop. Stopping had  not been an option, my need to destroy drove me to behavior I

still gasped at.

Eventually the rage had kicked in. I became  a tornado in the lives of everyone

around me. A wild woman had emerged from the broken shell I had been. I wanted

to make everyone else ache from deep inside, the way I did.  It is amazing how

quickly an existence is destroyed.

By the time I left Denver, there had been nothing to run from, I was alone. I had

always been a loner and settled into myself silently.  The decision to move was an

impulse. I was offered a position in Phoenix.  I had no reason to stay. Resentment

and righteous indignation fueled my activity.  One manic night of packing and the

drive accomplished in a blurry weekend. The spurt of activity  lasted long enough for

me to unload the car and trailer.  Everything I owned was still in boxes. There was

no need to unpack.  I wasn't staying. I was suspended, no longer me.  I was gone.


Time had gone on and I with it, against my will.