That Girl and Her Damn Pearl Earring

So my two day dark-fest, mourning more than one loss, is waning. The brain is a tricky thing. Triggers find themselves in the strangest places. Dad's card, Lorraine's obituary and Jekonni's picture and his angel, finding themselves in the and out of the same box. The box I thought I'd forgotten about. Though, I can never forget them, those angels in plain sight, who left missing pieces in me. I felt you all in the museum today. Lorraine commenting, "How silly such a big room for such a small painting." Jekonni helping the elderly woman adjust her earphones using my hands. My dad whispering, "Lucinda Bunnen, remember she was one of you contributors the year you won that title, her art is hanging on the walls in this museum where in a week you will be teaching young people poems. You have all this behind and in front of you at the same time."
Then that moment when moved more by the memories than the art, the tears come again, the three of them snickering and giggling, "Now people will think the art moved you. You are so sensitive Theresa, so deep with all that emotion on your sleeve."
No one heckles quite as lovely as the dead.

I feel lighter y'all. Those missing pieces filling up with the new things I am living and learning, understanding that filling them will never remove you from my life.
Thanks.

Everyone Tells The Truth.?

There is a conversation happening on the book of face that I want to comment on but I won't because there seems to be this whole I'm right culture happening there. I know I am not always right I kind of assume others know this as well. They don't.

I remember when I was 17, there was this guy I had an on again off again thing with. It was strange. We kind of hated each other and argued constantly but then would find ourselves making wild crazy love on someone’s floor, or kitchen counter, or in the driveway. The relationship confused us both but, well, there we were. I tried really hard not to sleep with him when he and his girlfriend were together, but they broke up and got together again a lot, sometimes there was crossover.

As we approached spring break that year I was about to turn 18, they broke up again. This time it felt like it was for good. He said he was sick of the back and forth and I said I didn't care because we were not friends. We were just two people who fought a lot and had sex occasionally and sometimes a lot. They got back together after a day or two and were supposed to take this trip together over spring break.

She went with someone else. Now, to say that my not friend was pissed, would be an understatement. He paid for the trip and he wanted his money back. He fumed for days. At some time during the course of the week my dad talked to him, my friend Bridget's dad talked to him, and his dad talked to him. Basically they said, this was a sign to let that go. Let her, the money and everything go.

When school started back he ignored her. A few days in she apologized and suggested they start over. He said he wasn’t interested. She made a scene in the cafeteria, which was humiliating and embarrassing for everyone who was forced to witness it. Then she cried and begged and a host of other equally embarrassing things. That weekend there were several parties. We saw each other at one and left because we could feel drama trying to happening. We ended up back at my house. We drank Milwaukee’s Best (worst idea ever) to the point that my people were like you should stay on the couch tonight call your mom. When he called home, (this is before cell phones), his mother told him that the police were looking for him. His on again off again had called the police and said he beat and raped her at the party. We left the party before she even got there.

All that to say I never question in my heart when anyone says they have been assaulted, raped or attacked in any way. No one has the right to harm another.

I also can’t UN-know his story and I shudder to think what would have happened to this boy I barely liked had he not had an alibi that night.