regret

a friend asked recently if i had regrets. too many to count, i replied. then i began thinking about them. i regret that my children had to live with the blowback of my abuse - it might have saved them having to grow up too soon. i regret that i didn't tell my husband what he was getting into before i married him - it might have saved him a lot of pain. i regret that i never reported the rape - i hope no other woman had to go through what i did. i regret that i had an abortion - i pray i'll get to meet my little boy some day and be able to tell him how much i loved him. i regret that i never got to know my mother - few photographs and glances in the mirror at a woman who is supposed to look just like her is not enough. i regret that i couldn't keep myself from falling into the abyss. the abyss is always there. i've just learned you can climb out.

i don't regret marrying my first husband. yes, we were young and stupid and i married him for all the wrong reasons. marrying him gave me my two oldest children who are two of the stars that circle my moon. whatever we went through in our short time together, i will never regret having them.

i don't regret yelling at my husband's father as he lay on the hospital table awaiting an angiogram and wanting to die, "you can't die. you have grandchildren who want to know their grandfather." he lived a few years longer and they got to know him well - as did i. he was a wonderful man.

i don't regret taking a chance on love when i told myself i was never getting involved again, most certainly never getting married or having more children. i went on to marry the love of my life and had two more of the most beautiful children in the universe...inside and out. two more stars in my sky.

i don't regret the decision not to take the pills that i'd saved for weeks - sneaking them out of my mother's stash of valium. i flushed them before i could change my mind.

i don't regret chosing life.
i don't regret chosing this life.

pity

she was a loner. a geek. think "the breakfast club. think ally sheedy's character. she moved through haze-ridden days. thoughts clouded with confusion. frustration. no drug in the world could help.

he was a teacher. he read her papers. she read his thoughts. he kept her after class. she ate up the attention. he worried. she flourished. he thought she was suicidal. she was. he thought she was abused. she was. he thought she was beautiful. she was.

for thirty minutes each day she became a human being. she shared. he listened.

at the end of the semester he moved overseas. she couldn't erase the look in his eyes the last day they met. pity.

scaredy cat

i'm afraid. i don't fear the darkness. i don't fear the sunlight. i fear other people. i fear myself. i fear the potential i have for self-destruction. the potential for lies and more lies. the fear that i will swallow myself whole and all that will be left is a stain on the floor.

i learned early to depend on no one. trust no one. hide the true self behind a mask of contentment. be the 'good girl'. my dark thoughts corner me unaware at times. they sneak up behind me like evil slayers in the horror movies that make the audience jump with their surprise attacks. i never liked those kind of movies.

i don't feel real. i think i've played this part before in some other lifetime. sometimes the deja-vu is overwhelming. i hope i'm doing better this time. the next time i would like to get it right. days get long and i get tired trying to remember the script.

i see other people who appear to be as befuddled as i. they go from day to day hiding their fears. masking their disappointments. trying to be the best they can be with what they have to work with. you can ask them if they're happy. they'll lie. we all lie.

in that still corner of my mind i wait. for what? i can't say. something to change? something to shock me out of this fugue? i've done that. i don't recommend it. still, i wait. the silence between heartbeats is deafening. the beats telling me the body is still alive, even if the spirit isn't.

angels. demons. are they really very much different? i need some hope.