Take Me With You

by Andrea Gibson

EVEN WHEN THE TRUTH ISN’T HOPEFUL, THE TELLING OF IT IS.

NOTHING HURTS MORE THAN LIVING SOMEONE ELSE’S LIFE.

I BELIEVE PART OF THE VIOLENCE OF OUR CULTURE STIRS FROM THE MYTH THAT KINDNESS IS NATURAL. I DON’T THINK KINDNESS IS NATURAL. I THINK KINDNESS WOULD ONLY BE NATURAL IN A WORLD WHERE NO ONE IS HURT, AND EVERYONE IS HURT. SO KINDNESS IS WORK. KINDNESS IS OUR KNEES IN THE GARDEN WEEDING OUR BITES, OUR APATHIES, OUR COLD SHOULDERS, OUR SILENCES, OUR CRUELTIES, WHATEVER TAUGHT US THE WORD “UGLY.”

WHEN ASKED IF I BELIEVE IN “GOOD PEOPLE,” I SAY I BELIEVE IN PEOPLE WHO ARE COMMITTED TO KNOWING THEIR OWN WOUNDS INTIMATELY. PEOPLE WHO READ THEIR WOUNDS’ DIARIES, WHO FOLLOW THEIR WOUNDS OUT WINDOWS, DOWN LADDERS, ASKING, “WHERE ARE YOU GOING? WHAT DO YOU NEED? HOW CAN I INTERVENE BEFORE A CRUEL THING IS DONE OR SAID?”

I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR HAVING A MIND THAT CAN BE CHANGED.

SAID TO THE SUN, “TELL ME ABOUT THE BIG BANG.” THE SUN SAID, “IT HURTS TO BECOME.”