December 8, 2009

shallow breathing

About five minutes into my drive home and two minutes of conversation with my sister, my breathing slowed. And not just slowed, but grew so shallow I could barely feel my lungs moving at all. Tears began to fill my eyes as slowly as the breath filled my body. (Or not filling, as it were.) I drove about ten more minutes in silence after that call dropped. Silence peppered only by the freeway drumming and my shallow, timid breaths. And as I pulled into a parking spot only a few moments ago it hit me... I have now been abandoned by two fathers in my life. Two. And as I sit here and type, aware of this truth, considering what this means for my life, I cry. And cry. My eyes filling quickly with those same tears earlier held back by my shallow, timid breaths.

And as I sit here searching for a thought to console myself, I decide that perhaps just acknowledging the truth is enough for now...


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