I woke up one morning in Seattle on the pull out couch of my parents apartment when I was 18. I slept with a stuffed bunny named Maynard that I actually have senior pics with ( I sent him to a dude it didn’t end well). At 18 I was not big. I’m 5 foot 2 and was a size 5 145 pound athlete. I was usually described as shrimpy. My cousin and I call ourself fun size. ♀️. I had my bunny in my arms and I woke up. When I opened my eyes, my dad was standing at the side of the bed, he looked at me and said “When I see you laying there with that bunny, all curled up and little you look just like you did when I tucked you in as a little girl.” I’ll never forget Dads face. I never felt so loved and so secure in my whole life. Nothing in the world could touch me. Because; my dad. But his face was sad too. He was in Seattle getting a bone marrow transplant for stage 4 lymphoma. He had told people he would never live passed 50 from the time he was 8 years old. He died 4 weeks from being 51. After dad died, everyone that ever made me feel special went away from me. Literally all of them have died but my cousin Misty. Those who I have loved, Some I adored, even after they hurt me, people I was desperate for affection from, have never loved me back, and have always made me feel like I was failing. But i would have done anything for them. Because they were mine. Even to the point of harming myself for my people.
I am a fool.
No one has ever had good intentions for me but this tiny collective of persons who I clutch to like life breath. And about a million memories. And a lot of pain. And a lot of alone. But always wondering if someone is going to hurt me.
I’m not good at rewriting history.
I’m still scared.
If feels like I have to start over every minute.
I don’t trust things.
Most of all myself #ItIsATaleToldByAnIdiotFullOfSoundAndFurySignifyingNothing #Nothing