I’ve been so afraid to say it. it. say it. it. it.. Say IT. I’ve heard other’s say it, cry it, whisper it, yell it, and all I’ve wanted to do is save them from their words. “Take it back” I wish to say to them, “You don’t mean it, you’re just lost, confused, you haven’t prayed hard enough. SHHHHH don’t say it. It. It.. Don’t say it!”
But really those pleadings have never really been for them. No, they’ve been for me. “Katie, you don’t mean it, you’re just lost, confused, you just haven’t prayed hard enough, SHHHH just wait a little longer, it will be okay if you just forget it. Just don’t you dare say it.”
Then one completely unspectacular morning it fell out of me like gravity stole it from my clenched teeth. I waited squeezed fists, eyes closed, in silence hoping somehow I could clean the wreckage and the splatter when it reached the ground. But as it fell through the air, echoing, dancing and twirling in its newfound freedom I realized I didn’t want it cleaned.
Instead, I wanted to give it room or a canvas even. I wanted to see what could be made from this spill, this mess, this truth and all its untogetherness.
I don’t know anymore. I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW. I DON’T KNOW!! There, I said it! I’m sure sometimes I’ll cry it, sometimes whisper it but right now I can’t help but yell it so I can hear my own voice for what feels like the first time, “I don’t know!”
And finally, that’s okay.
“Whatever inspiration is, it’s born from a continuous ‘I don’t know.”
Art: Jerome Lawrence