….i never stray too far from the sidewalk.

a casual afternoon of hanging out with friends.

it seemed that at the best moments in her life on word could set off a memory to ruin everything.  she couldn’t say anything, it would seem as if she were trying to make them feel sorry for her.  or worse, that she was trying to show off her scars.  she wasn’t proud of them, but she had been accused of such in the past, and she would not be again.

that wasn’t the case, though.  the more she opened up and let the memories out, the less they seemed to hurt.  but this was neither the time nor the place.  she wouldn’t ruin the spirit of the afternoon.  no, if she didn’t think about it, the memory would go away.

as friends laughed and conversed, talk to turned to a friend’s plans to wash her car that afternoon.  no harm could possibly be meant be such conversation.  her friend spoke of a slight claustrophobia when in the drive-through automatic car-washers, and then another spoke of his delight from them.  then, suddenly powerless over her own tongue, she heard herself say the words, “I used to be terrified of those things.  I’d cry in them.”  stunned looks on both her friends faces finally silenced her uncontrolled lips.

thankfully, she now gained command of herself and conversation topics moved on without hesitation.  but, she stayed with it, thinking over the things she managed to keep to herself. had her father really “needed” to wash his car every time he had her for the day?

but those memories would stay hidden.  those questions would remain unanswered.


~ by Mary Christa on May 29, 2008.

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