What People are Afraid to say to Each Other
6th Entry
“I won’t return your calls right now, because I’m in the middle of addiction.”
“Your sister taking her own life, that might be at least a little bit on you.”
“If my kids won’t take my calls on their birthday, and their grandparents have convinced them I’m the bad guy … that’s their loss; they’re big enough to understand how things work.”
“I kind of hope you’re real.”
“We’re worried if you don’t take serious new ownership of your life, we’re going to have to pick up all the pieces and carry you with the little we have left.”
“I’m committed to making this church work; I’ll ride it all the way into the ground if I have to.”
“Why is my husband so kind and tender at church … and so horrible at home?”
“When I shut the door to my room, you should worry about me.”
“I now hate all the people I had hoped to love who wouldn’t stick with me.”
“I wish I could move and start my life all over again.”
“When I buy a vehicle I am absolutely trying to make it an expression of my self.”
“You were the kindest soul I ever knew; I wish I could have been attracted to you that way.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d find here, and then the very first quote really struck something long buried. So simple, yet it spoke to years spent attempting to live parallel lives. And as both inevitably unravelled in ugly ways, I so badly wanted to be able to be this honest and this succinct, and not have to apologise for not going to some pottery or whatever activity that would require me to expose my arms and hands. Thank you.