I hit the outside doors and feel the fresh air of freedom. And it reminds me of years ago when I was walking out of prison smelling the Fall air of October.
I am replaying the last few hours in my head like it is on loop.
I keep thinking did I do everything right ?
Knowing I may have helped some of the people. And I feel little guilty for having to tell the young man to leave my body in front of the door. I should not have burdened him with that knowledge especially when. I could have just assured myself into a place where it would have happened period.
It felt saddening that I had to share it like I was not strong enough. To just hold that to myself. No one needed to know that I was ready to die for those people. Because that would imply that there was someone killing people for that option to exist.
I did not need to hear my mother’s voice telling me how worthless I was. Or why I was almost in tears less than a mile from my home because I was not dead.
I was ready for this to end I had already lived through so much in my life it felt like a chance for it to be over. And allow me a moment of relief. Well as I got to the car in the visitors parking lot I was on autopilot. I drove out of the campus lot and turned the right towards the house. If I had been thinking I would have turned left for the much quicker route, but I turned right.
I drove through the cities busiest street without thought. As I reached the last two turns for my home it all hits.
The safety of my car with its locked doors and loud music. The couch with my butt print and the heat pump that clicked three times before it warmed up.
Why did I leave this house why? The only good thing that happened was that I had a therapy session the next day.
So I had to leave the house but to a place I knew and needed then was great.
Artwork by author. Used with permission.
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