spending the weekend in my parents' house.
i almost pulled out the computer at 12:30 a.m. when i couldn't sleep,
thinking of you.
i want to pour a work-in-progress, stream-of-consciousness mess
into this text field
and let it simmer,
let it throw steam until it burns to the pan,
that kind of sticky damage that can never be undone,
no matter how you soak, how you scrub.
there is too much i could want to say.
the echo of my younger voice
is screaming against my realization that
more often than not,
my comment does not matter.
my voice is not necessary.
but sometimes it is.
sometimes it is,
and i have been shamed into silence
by those who should know better.
by "advocates."
by "friends."
i tried to save her.
i am still trying to save her.
but how can you rescue
someone whose mind has been poisoned against you?
i remember that, too.
save roux.
save the one after, and the one after, and the one after me.
all i want
is to make the world a better place.
lock him up,
take the alcohol from his veins
and fix the serotonin in his brain,
and any of the other chemicals
whose pathways have been overgrown.
take the monster out of him.
he is just a human being...
isn't he?
in spite of it all, love.
compassion?
i grapple with a question of "choice."
what does it mean to choose behavior?
when are we capable?
what does it mean when we act without capably choosing our behavior?
how long ago did it stop becoming a choice?
when one no longer knows the truth, one can't help lying.
love is big,
and much bigger than my misled affection.
my love needs to know,
How can I warn every woman, everywhere?
How can I tell them, Don't!
If You See This Man, Run.
Don't let him charm you.
regardless of gender, regardless of age,
he is still the same.
some people do not change.
