Like Peter Pan, I Chased and I Ran
but that shadow escaped down the hall
I’m sorry that I haven’t written in a while.
The truth is, I’ve been struggling. There’s a sadness in divorce that is always with me. At times it feels insurmountable. But there’s also a breath of excitement—of freedom. At times, it’s a little bit…nice?
It’s confusing, chewing on all of these feelings. Like a steak that is slathered in jelly.
Anyways, I went to the doctor yesterday—and it turns out, they cured my writer’s block. I was there to establish myself as a patient which I knew would mean a whole bunch of paperwork. Hello ma’am, just checking in, yes I’m new, thanks for the pen. Mom’s side depression, dad’s side heart problems, no I am definitely not pregnant.
Everything was fine until the very last page when I was dealt this emotional sucker punch:
Emergency Contact:
That’s all it said. But I hesitated. And then, my stomach dropped.
I wrote down my mother’s name, because of course she would come, but that made me feel small and unlovable. For the rest of the day, a steady stream of tears and emotions continued to come. Like some secret balloon full of hurt in my heart had been pricked by the tiniest pin.
Last night, I was able to write again. It’s not my typical prose.
But I hope that it helps at least one of you feel less alone in your heartache.
Chasing Shadows
If I had sixty seconds left on this earth, I’d call you.
If I had to be stuck on an island for ten years with one person, I’d call you.
If I was thrown in jail, I’d call you.
If I won the lottery, I’d call you.
If I lost someone or something important to me, I’d call you.
But then I lost you.
Or maybe it was more complicated than that.
Maybe we lost reception.
Like Peter Pan, I chased and ran, but that shadow escaped down the hall.
I’m not sure who to call if I win the lottery, anymore.
Or if I am sent to a deserted island.
Or if I am scared, or lonely.
Maybe I’m simply chasing a shadow
A hope that can never be.
Or maybe it’s even scarier than that…
Maybe the shadow is me.
The emergency contact part. Oof.
I know the poem is about divorce, but we just lost a teacher in my building last week and it’s hard not seeing her at school. There have been things that I’ve wanted to reach out to her about and then I remember. It’s hard when you want to turn to someone but can’t.
Glad you were able to write again. ♥️
MK, I know how you feel right now. My ex husband lives on the East Coast and I'm on the west. He is dying from lung cancer and I'm concerned my grown son won't see him before he passes away. It's hard knowing someone you love will be gone but he won't be forgotten. I feel you. Much love.