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Just to Walk


The human life is made up of experiences. Some we choose to have and some are chosen for us. We all have one choice no matter the experience we live, what to do when it is over. When it becomes part of our past instead of our present. When it fades into memory instead of reality. When it becomes a story told at parties instead of something to be dealt with in the moment. We choose what we become. We choose what we will remember, what we will tell. We choose.

She stood in that moment of choice. The event had passed and the next one, the one where she would have to actively deal with it, had not started yet. This was it, when she would have to choose what would happen next. She barely understood it herself and could not imagine how she would be able to explain it to someone else. It was over, and she wasn’t sure she knew why.

She knew the raw facts of how she had ended up here. She knew the chain of events that had led to this. She knew the reasoning that was given to explain what had happened. Yet, she did not understand. How had this happened? How had it happened to her? And why could she have not seen it coming?

She was surprised at herself. She had seen others who were at this same point and she had thought them weak. Perhaps not totally weak but she couldn’t understand how they could just freeze, why they didn’t fight back or move on. She understood now. She knew how all those others felt in this moment. She knew how their hearts suddenly felt withered and dying, the dull pain of something missing. She knew how their insides felt like sand, coarse and dry and lifeless. She knew how the throat closed up and barely allowed air to enter the body. She knew how the brain began to process everything in slow motion while watching the events leading up in fast forward. She knew how the bones and muscles froze so that the whole body would not disintegrate with the slightest provocation. She knew all of this because this was what was happening to her, right now, in this moment. She was not weak. It was her fierce strength that kept her body living.

This was the moment. The moment when she would have to make a choice. This experience could break her or she could do something. She didn’t have to make the choice of what to do, how to move on, or who to be next. She needed to make a choice to break or do something, anything. It was amazing how long it took to consider which way to go. There were compelling factors to each argument. The attractive choice was to break, to quit. When you quit the pain, it wasn’t gone but it felt gone. She could pretend that the pain was gone, all the choices would not have to be made when you quit, when you were broken. It was doing something, anything that reminded you of the pain. It was when you moved and chose to continue to be a person that the pain stayed with you. The choices would still have to be made and with each new choice new pain would come, which would remind her of this pain.

To quit, to break, that was the attractive choice. And, for a little while, she let herself believe that was the choice she would make. For a second she forgot about the pain and the choices. For a second she was not here, she was not her. For a second she drifted, weightless, numb. It was a good rest. But only for a second.

She didn’t choose to break. She chose to do something because despite the pain and the choices to be made that would bring new pain, she remembered the people. She remembered her people. She remembered the moments when they laughed, when they cried, when they were surprised, and when they were amazed. She remembered how it felt to be with them and hold their hands as they cried and wipe away tears when they laughed hard. She thought about them if she chose to quit. It was her people, thinking about them being, living, in this moment, having these thoughts, and making these choices. She had to do something, for her people.

It took several more minutes. She had to force her brain to recognize its place in the body. It took monuments effort to prepare the muscles and joints for movement. She almost chose something different at her lungs protesting the intake of air that was required for the brain and muscles. She remembered her people. And with more effort than she had expelled in all the time she could remember she took a step forward. It wasn’t a big step but it was something. It took her a little less time to make the next one. With each step the movements came easier.

Her heart still felt withered. Her insides were still sand. Her brain did little more than kept her moving. And her throat still protested the intake of air. But, she made a choice. She didn’t allow herself to think about the choices that would need to be made latter on and all the pain that they would bring. She made her choice. She remembered her people and kept walking forward. At some point her brain would start to work again and things would get easier but for now she was happy to walk forward and remember her people. She would realize sooner or later that some of her people were right beside her, walking with her, watching over her, and holding her hand. But her brain couldn’t process this information.

She would be glad that they were there when it was time to do more than walk forward and remember. She would be glad they were there.

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