Good Morning

I fell asleep for twenty years.

All of the stories so far have been simple snapshots from my childhood, markers which I’ve revisted to help me make sense of what’s going on inside me now.

I still smell Terry’s unwashed jeans. I still hear the sound of lockers slamming while Teresa sniffled. I still see the devastation behind Ryan’s eyes as he walked the hall alone. But I had forgotten it for so long. Until someone recently awakened the memories.

He’s smarter than people give him credit for. He doesn’t smell bad or dress weird. But he’s a modern day Terry. When he talks about how people treat him, I’m transported back to fifth grade where I am a refuge for an outcast, the closest thing to a friend he might have right now.

He struggles to find his place in the world and I hurt for him. I have very few answers except for an encouraging word now and then. Mostly I listen. Turns it’s the best thing I can do for myself. Yes, for me.

Yeah, he needs someone to talk to. But when I listen to him, I live the story of his hurt and it stirs something in me. Discomfort. My usual routine is disrupted, my awareness disturbed. My easy professional life comes face to face with the heartache of someone unable to keep a job, lonely, mocked behind his back, brushed off by everyone I’ve seen him with.

He woke me up to things that lay dormant for so long. He reminds me of people I’ve known before, of what I used to be about. He’s one more story in which I’ve though I was the hero, but find myself in need of saving instead.

He’s not the only one. Now that I’m awake, I’m finding more Terry’s.