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But I say nothing. I am learning that it’s okay to do that sometimes. In fact it is quite fun to watch people’s reactions.
It hurts, but in a weird kind of way, I welcome the pain. It anchors me, reminding me that I’m here, alive.
although the anger is fading from his kind, crumpled face, what’s left is worse—bewildered hurt.
it wasn’t terror or fear that was uppermost in my mind but a kind of shocked disbelief, that this had happened to me, to us. I was not this person. I was not the person terrible things happened to. That was other people, other families.
The strange thing is, I am not sure I’m ready to face reality again. It is just dawning on me that what felt like captivity might actually be a kind of idyllic tranquility.
From my experience, if you keep quiet, people get nervous. They talk. They fill the silence with their own conversation. You can find out a lot that way.
