can you write?
“can you write,” she asked me.
i shrugged it off, “of course i can write.”
but now, days later, at home, I really can’t. not even a status update. all is well-enough for four months after rachel hung herself. but that’s not all that well.
work helps. busy work.
but can I write? syllabi, course materials, assignments, plans, documents, paperwork, reports. i can write these documents. they have end-dates. clear goals. though but a good evening’s worth of distractions.
but can I write? fuck no. i can’t think. i can barely breathe. i can’t think about coding or analysis or the “gold mine of data i am sitting on” (to quote a reader/mentor/friend). he understands.
but, i can’t feel. so, naturally, i can’t write about how i feel. all i can muster is “sad.” sometimes I can repeat “very sad.” but that isn’t enough.
there are words. i know that. but i can’t find them. they are lost to me, and that leaves me so alone. without words, i can’t communicate, and without communication, i can’t function.
“happiness is only real when shared.” chris mccandless
without words, i can’t share. without feelings, i can’t process. i am sad.