Today no one tried to kill me with a knife.
Today my wife did not miscarry.
Today my wife did not miscarry again.
Today I did not witness a violent crime, helpless to do anything about it.
Today my heart wasn’t broken, making me feel used, dirty and cheap.
Today I did not have to put my beloved cat to sleep myself because I could not afford to take her to the vet.
Today I did not wake up from surgery and cry tears of blood.
Today I did not see a volcano explode and destroy the family vacation spot.
Today I was not homeless.
All of these bad things happened to me, but not today.
When I read I want to forget. Sometimes all I want to do is remember. I want to go somewhere else. I want to be entertained. I want to know what you think at night when the house is quiet. I want to you to be honest with me. I want you to weave your values and moral fiber throughout your story. I want you to tell me what’s in your heart. I want to laugh, I want to cry and I want to snicker at a bad joke.
Show me with words. Show me the feeling when the man you loved lowered himself on you for the first time. Show me how your heart would beat so fast when you saw that special girl in her pretty dress on Sunday during church. Show me the little face sleeping in her bed when you snuck in late at night to stare at her and take comfort that her chest was going up and down, her breath going in and out.
I need it all. I need nothing. I need a connection.
Today nothing bad happened to me today.
The day is not over yet. If something bad will happen to me today, I might cry. I might hug. I might kiss. I might wake up before dawn and feel sorry for myself. I might grieve. I might freak out. I might never be the same person that I was when I woke up this morning.
All of those are maybes. One thing is certain as the blood running through my veins.
I’ll pick up a book and read, either to escape or drown in it. In that moment, it’s just you and me.
And the Writer.