I Thought You Said This Would Work

by Ann Garvin

It proved I could be the kind of person, friend, you didn’t just walk away from for no reason. That my presence mattered in a life.

There had been times at the post office or gas station, months after Jeff’s death, when someone would come up to me and say, “I’m so sorry to hear of your loss,” and I’d think, Oh yeah. The money. Then I’d have to remind myself, No, she means Jeff. Jeff is dead. I’d feel an extremely intricate crisscross of emotions. Charismatic, sensitive, mean Jeff, who knew I wasn’t going anywhere, because you couldn’t leave your marriage with a baby without the kind of

Who knew how universal this feeling was

What I’d come to understand was that I wasn’t the greatest judge when bringing people into my life. I’d been wrong about Jeff. I’d been wrong about Holly. Maddie and Katie were my family; I kept the numbers small for this reason.

I want to feel much less in commom with this than i do.

This is how cults get people to do stuff. You take people out of their normal circumstances, screw with their sense of time, add bossy people with strong ideologies to the mix, and the next thing you know, you are doing things you normally wouldn’t do, like steal campers and yell at the person you are most afraid of. I picked up my coffee and said to myself, Samantha, you are on new ground. Take it slowly, which was different from what I usually said to myself which was, Just shut up

Often, if I wasn’t careful, I made up a story about people in my head and didn’t check it with the facts of that person.

I do this.

“My name is Griffin. First and last name, by the way.” “You mean it’s always been Griffin?” “No, my name is Griffin Griffin. My parents thought it was adorable, and also maybe they hated me.”

Maybe my favorite introduction ever

“I’m not saying I’m sorry to you. I’m saying I feel deeply sorrowful.”

Man, I need to remember this