Read Online My Dear Stranger by Sarah Ann Walker - Free Book Online

could write to adequately express that day.  And there were no words I could speak to give voice to the horror of that day.
      People tried though.  People tried to help me.
      My parents stepped up and offered help.  The police offered help.  The Doctors offered help.  The therapists offered help.  Everyone offered assistance but I couldn’t be helped.    
      I was gone.
     
     
    *****
     
     
     
      Looking around my garage I’m disgusted with myself.  I stink and I’m dirty and I should really stop this.  This doesn’t change anything.  Opening another pack of cigarettes doesn’t change anything.  Reading another page doesn’t change anything.  Nothing changes anything.  I know I should stop, but I just can’t.
     
      Walking back into my home, I use the little washroom near the front door and scrub my filthy hands, but I refuse to look in the mirror.  I don’t want to see this sad Sadie.  I am married, and wonderful, and smart, and an excellent mother.  I am not that young Sadie anymore.
      Microwaving another coffee, I flick on the outside light and stare at my yard.  The pool is closed up for the winter and the backyard looks lonely without all the furniture on the deck.  My backyard looks lifeless.  Funny, my back yard looks a little like I feel right now.
      I’m missing something.
      When the buzzer sounds, I grab my favorite coffee and slowly make my way back to my garage. 
      Stopping I decide to make sure.  Checking all the locks on all the windows on the main floor feels good.  I’m being secure.  I’m taking care.  I’m being smart.  Running downstairs, I double check all the bars are in place and all the windows are locked by unlocking and locking them again just to hear them engage.  Looking at the closest of 8 main panels in my house, I see all 42 lights are red.  Everything is armed except the door into the garage from my home.  Everything is as it should be. 
      Now, I can proceed to my lounge chair.
     
      Opening my smoky garage I decide to open the side door, just a crack.  I know I can’t be seen unless someone walks way down the side of my garage, just inside the fence gate.  I know that, but I’m still nervous someone might. 
      I cannot have someone see me smoking in my garage.  I can’t have anyone see me like this.  I know I don’t look the same right now, and that’s okay.  It’s okay to not look the same when doing this.  I know I don’t really feel the same while I’m doing this either.  I know that, and I’m okay with that.  I think I’m rational enough to know that anyone under these circumstances would look and feel a little off.  Anyone would feel tired and gross when finishing this.  I rationally know it’s okay that I probably don’t look very good and I’m okay with that right now, but I still don’t actually want to be seen looking tired and gross.  That is not okay for me.
     
     
     
     
    My Dear Str anger IX

Last night my dear stranger came to my bedside once again.
Waking from a light rest, my attention was drawn to His eyes- eyes so lovely and filled with hope, instantly my own eyes wept.  Instantly, i reached out for Him, as His arms drew me tightly into His embrace.
As time passed, my stranger did nothing but hold my weeping body.  A body so recently damaged and brutalized, i had thought i could never recover.  But then He came for me.

 
    But my mind began a whirl-wind of questions.  Questions i didn't speak but mentally obsessed over.  i wondered if He knew what had happened, and if so, i wondered how much, or how little He actually knew.  i wondered what He had felt when it happened to me, or what He felt when He had found out. 
i wondered what He thought.  i wondered if He had bled as i did, or if He had screamed when my body screamed.  i wondered if He felt the sadness and humiliation i did.  i wondered if He felt the desperation and horror i did.
i wondered if He felt the same