The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that it will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these, you can be sure that it will kill you too – but there will be no special hurry.
~~ Hemmingway
It was a rainy afternoon spent working to complete my exhaustive family tree. An ad popped that during the pandemic, Ancestry.com was giving free access to yearbooks from schools across the United States.
Should I? Would I? Perhaps just a peek.
You see, many years ago the world broke me. It presented a diverging path which led to a new destiny. And I thought perhaps it would be nice to remember where the original path might have led.
There he was – the beautiful, handsome boy I had spent almost three years with. Oh, the choices when you accept the new path.
Choices gave me a beautiful daughter who no longer speaks to me, although she was my whole world. Choices sent me to another city, and another one, and another state, while constantly running and ever seeking what wasn’t to be found. Choices to show kindness to those who used me and mine for their advantage. To care and nurture those who pushed it away. To love those could not, and would not, love back.
That new path presented one tiny decision to meet a stranger. Then another tiny decision to allow a kiss. And one more to skip school. And the world, that quixotic, fickle thing, closed the door behind me, cutting the thread on one destiny, and giving me another.
The world didn’t kill me. But…there’s still time.