A doorbell ring should be a hopeful sound, and yet it often is not. At least not the unanticipated surprise doorbell that rings out early in the morning. Instead it is a cue: be steady, an unknown situation awaits.
Again the doorbell rang this morning. And again I felt the surge of "I wonder who?" and placed a name in the unspoken answer. A good name. A welcome name.
Again I was wrong. I should have been steady and steeled.
Why is it so difficult to do what is right when it is right, but only for yourself? Why is doing the right thing toward myself not enough?
Why should there be another extrinsic reason to buttress my resolve, be it for humanity, or another person, or nature? And why, when no is hard enough, does it often need to come when there are so few braces?
The doorbell rang. I scooped my purse, already had on my coat. I needed to be across town at LabCorp in 15 minutes. I opened the door looking down, expecting maybe a note or bag, or something. That happens frequently enough that I've trained my eyes downward first. But no.
"I brought you breakfast. Do you have a minute to talk?" I take the bag. Why did I take it?
"I uh... I was just headed out." This is true. I lock the door. It verifies my statement. I'm leaving.
"Just a minute. Won't you listen?" He sits.
You've got me, everyone deserves an audience, don't they? What level of unlove is there that I can't listen? Listening won't change my mind. We sit. I clamp all of me together. I am as small as possible. Literally. If I don't move maybe I'm invisible.
The rational and a plan tumbles out.
Why am I sitting here? Why am I listening? I don't want this. I can't listen to you and to me. They are dissonant.
"I need to go." Blocked.
I get stepped in front of.
"I need to go." Move to the side.
"But you didn't hear everything." Stopped again.
"I need to go. I need to go pee in a cup." What?!? I never thought I'd say that aloud. If this was on t.v I'd laugh. I'm not laughing. I need to laugh.
That didn't work. Child-like logic never works.
"I'm not lying. I need to go." I start flapping my hands. What do I do with my hands? Flapping? I need to change directions, he's in my way.
"Wait. Please Andrea" I break away.
"Can I walk you to your car? I'm not done yet. You haven't heard it all. You aren't listening."
I am. I was. I shouldn't. Well, you're next to me walking, and I doubt you'll stop, so fine.
"Can I give you a hug?"
"No. No. I have to go." Don't touch me.
I was fasting so, no food or coffee was in me. I was sad, so tears were already close by. I am alone, so there were no distractions or supports at hand. I had an appointment, but that didn't stop me listening and being late.
A lot of listening. A lot of trembling. A lot of trying to leave and being cut off. A lot of steps to my car. A lot of no from a hollow voice.
But not a lot of strength.