This morning I crossed the street.
Unthinking, I stepped off the sidewalk while the light was still red.
I was brought to my senses when I heard the screech of a car two feet away from me.
The driver yelled, “are you crazy?!”
He is right, I know. But I wonder,
Does the driver realize that for the next few hours I will be walking around with a lump in my throat, with tears just behind my eyes?
It is an immaturity, I know. But sometimes, hours later, I will ask myself, “why am I sad?”
And I will think back and remember the driver’s face, and how wrong I was.
Sometimes it’s someone I love.
They will say something with the best intentions, but I will cry when I get home, because I love them, and I value their opinion.
I wonder, is everyone as sensitive as I am?
Are we billions of vulnerable, hurt people, forced to pretend that nothing affects us?
I don’t know, but I’ll see y’all soon. The lump in my throat is getting thicker, and I’m going to the bathroom.