A New City, An Old Fear

This would be exciting were I not alone, or in such circumstance as I now find myself. This city is new to me and I am unequal to the task of exploration, being weighted with such dire needs and regrets.

I have never become accustomed to the death of a friend, but I believed this time I had what I needed to make this something to hold on to, an act of unmitigated good. And I did succeed at that in no small measure, but in the end my presence was as it has always been- wound rather than balm. That from that night and its achingly painful end I should then tumble in to this circumstance, having all my privacy stolen, all my deepest fears rendered reality… days after returning to awareness I am still numbed from the shock of it.

I reject the notion of fate. This horrifying turn of events seems inevitable in retrospect. I should have prepared for it, now I am forced to improvise, to put my trust in those over whom I have but the most tenuous of control and simply wait for events to play out.

I missed Thanksgiving with Edna and the family. I fear I may never see them again. I ache to weep over this, but I am so desperately tired.

4 Responses to “A New City, An Old Fear”

  1. I have a spare bedroom with a private bath that is quite comfortable if you need to hide away for a while. I live in the South. The little lady will just have to understand…

  2. So what’s got your panties in a bunch now?

  3. Nevermind the comments from peanut gallery, Zsallia. I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. From your post, it seems things have gotten worse since. I don’t know what to say other than I hope it turns out well for you.

    Best wishes.

  4. My condolensces on the loss of your friend. I am sure that it never gets easy. Stand strong, and know that warm thoughts are headed your way.