To My Entire Family;
Don't tell them you didn't see the signs. I called all of you, every single one of you, for a year.
I called due to heartbreak:
"There are plenty of fish in the sea"
"Trust me he wasn't worth it."
"Any man pulling you along for that long is just a jerk."
"You deserve better"
but those are repeated words that lose their meaning.
I called due to being lost:
"Well you're a teacher I don't blame you for wanting to change jobs."
"Being a singer isn't the way to go."
"You'll end up doing drugs like everyone else."
"I told you prostitutes make more money than teaching."
I called due to depression:
"Now you're being melodramatic."
"Really, Amari, you're not even capable of frowning."
"Depression isn't something to joke about."
"You'll get over it in a week."
"Just go to the bar and think for a bit. You'll be fine by morning."
But my little second-cousin picked up the phone on one of those and greeted me and I could hear the smile in her voice, but when she heard me she asked if I was okay. She was the first person out of any of you to ask if I was okay. But she's a child, she's my favorite cousin because her mother is a pig. I told her that I was sick and I was calling to figure out how to get better. She asked me why I was sick and I told her that my body, heart and mind were sick. She asked if it was cancer and I told her it wasn't, but it looked like cancer to hide itself. So she told me and talked to me about what she did to get better and healthier, and I cried. This 6 year old child was doing a better job at comforting me then any of you had. She only stopped talking to listen, and then asked if I was crying. All I could tell her is that I was sad that I was sick, because I couldn't do lots of things I wanted to do. So you know what she said? She said she'd come visit me and make me better so I could do anything I wanted.
And a week later she was at my doorstep, her backpack filled with soup recipes and her suitcase filled with toys and clothes. She told me her mother was putting her in pageants so putting her on a diet. She's six, she's going to be a little thick and she was telling me about her diet and how she was going to become pretty like me. I spent that entire day telling her she was pretty and we went to eat out and I was angry that her mother would tell her she was fat and not pretty. That girl is the most beautiful person I know.
But the next two weeks was fun. I watched her cook me soup so I could get better, then we'd go out and have fun and I let her sleep in the same bed as me and I was happy. For the next fourteen days I was happy, I wasn't depressed and I could pretend to be her mother if even for two weeks.
I tried to be a better person after she left, I did. I let her call me on those rare occasions, I answered her letters, but the shadows came back, the depression, the loneliness.
I called due to loneliness:
"All she does is talk about you I'm not putting her on the phone."
"I'm telling you, all you need is a good f*ck."
"if you actually went out and tried looking for a man."
"You only feel lonely because you're the only one not married."
"It's not that hard finding a man you're just picky."
I called due to alcoholism:
"It's 5 o'clock somewhere."
"Really, Amari. One drink doesn't count as being an alcoholic."
"You're such a drama queen."
"If the beer doesn't work go to vodka."
Vodka reminds me of him, but I don't blame him at all. he hadn't crossed my mind in a while. He had his reasons for what he did and I accept them. I will never blame him.
I called because I was suicidal:
"You're just a bit depressed. You'll get over it soon enough."
"You're being selfish. What about the rest of us?"
"Well if you've got your mind on it I can't change it."
"Well if you're going to die add a bit of pizazz. No one dies with any pizazz"
I hope the glitter around my feet is enough pizazz for you.
But I've always been a disappointment so it probably isn't.
-Amari Marilyn Swolfkein
Your Missing Period
· Wed Mar 20, 2013 @ 07:30am · 0 Comments