Bad things happen every day. You flip on the news and there is story after story about people hurting others in various ways. It's non-stop, never-ending.
Last night, I turned on the news and heard the media perspective about something someone is alleged to have done earlier in the day in a nearby city. That someone is a family member. That family member is being accused of doing a thing that most people will never, ever do. Maybe some would think about doing it. Maybe they'd feel so much of SOMETHING that they'd consider it very seriously. But the vast majority will never cross that line.
It was a hard day. My mom had called my phone in the early afternoon to tell me about what happened, not remembering that I work on Tuesdays now. For about two minutes after I hung up, I thought I was fine. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine! But when those approximate two minutes were up, I knew it wasn't fine. SO MANY people are affected by this. I don't even know who most of them are, but I do know all the ones in my family. I know that the next days, months, years, FOREVER are going to be different now.
I called my husband. He left work immediately to come downtown to pick me up. We spent the rest of the afternoon together at home.
I'm sad. And angry. And ashamed. And scared. But anger wins out because THIS SHOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED. Even if there is a mistake here and it didn't go down in the way police say it did, it's indisputable that something did happen. It's all such a stupid fucking waste.
In the next day or two, names will be released to the media. It's going to get worse. People are going to know the WHO behind the WHAT.
As I awakened this morning, I was in that special in between place. That place where consciousness sets in slowly and everything feels bright and smooth and warm. I opened my eyes, glanced at the clock. Then, somewhere in those numbers, I found remembrance.
I pulled the blankets back over my head and willed reality to go away, to switch back to how it was on Tuesday morning. It didn't. It won't.