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  • Writer's pictureKiri Self

Old man

Updated: Mar 22, 2022

5am and I’m awake, thoughts running around my head like they are a party of five year olds who’ve just discovered an unattended bowl of sweets.

On Monday, during my weekly trip to Sainsburys, I thought I saw David. A man was walking down the aisle in front of me, dressed in running gear and with that familiar short grey hair. It sent a kick and a punch to my gut. I couldn’t breathe. And then he turned around and it wasn‘t him. Thank god. What would I say if it was him? I thought about that on the way home. What would I say if it was him? Why do I still care is obviously another question which I came to later, but at the time I could only cope with the first.

Why did you leave me?

Do you feel bad for not saying goodbye to my son? (And he hates you now by the way.)

Did you ever get tired of lying to everyone around you?

And then I started wondering why I still care. After all this time, and after he almost destroyed me, why would I care?

And I don’t know the answer to this either. Brains are really stupid things sometimes. I almost died because of this man, and I still want to question him?

No. I won’t have that. So I started fighting my thoughts. Answering them back. Telling them to fuck off.

That turned out to be only marginally effective.

I forgot to tell my therapist about this when I spoke to her yesterday. I had so much else to catch her up on, as I hadn’t spoken to her for over a month. Maybe that’s why it’s still buzzing round in my mind. I wish it was a mosquito I could splat. It’s certainly as toxic to me as a mosquito. I’m allergic and I blow up like a very unattractive balloon if I get bitten.

I’ve made some forward going steps. I am happier than I’ve been for a long time. Monday was mostly just a blip, caused by an unfortunate likeness of a stranger. (I must say, the chap was probably a similar age to David. And to me, he did look old. There’s that age difference for you. Strange I never saw that at the time.)

I am crocheting up a storm. It brings me so much pleasure to do, yet it surprises me so much when it brings other people pleasure too. If you want to support my new venture, drop me a message and a commission. Lovely.

Have a picture of my latest.

I don’t want you to think I’m a total Debby Downer at the moment. I’m not. But I’m hoping that maybe writing all this down will magically waft it out of my head, like a bad smell disappears when you open the window.

Go in peace. That’s what they used to say at Church at the end of the service. I’m stealing it because I like it. I am wishing all my friends a peaceful day.


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