I feel robbed

It’s not fair, he said

I feel robbed

robbed of a friend..

I can’t believe

that I won’t see him anymore..

I hadn’t seen him crushed like this..

in years.

I was holding it together to help him through the night. But inside, I was wailing myself. Our friend’s music had touched my heart and traveled deep down into my soul. His voice was echoing in my head. It was the darkest night in a long time.

This dark night happened on a day that my eyes were already swollen and burning from tears. Tears for the blood of generations of people fighting for their freedom, dignity and basic human rights. Tears for a new low for human beings and what they are capable of. An existential crisis.

I was lost. I was showing up to work like a zombie again. A helpless immigrant drowning in the guilt of leaving and building another life for myself where I believed human dignity was comparatively more respected.

Why is honesty punished and truth deemed dangerous? It was as if I had never left. My body was pushing the portable sinks out at work to setup for children to wash their hands as they come into the classroom. But my mind was fearing bullets. My heart shrinking with worry.

When he called me to tell me our friend was gone, I was in denial. I hung up and pretended to go back to the kids. To sit with them and watch over them as they eat their lunch as if nothing had happened. But I wasn’t there. How long had I been gone?

How long will this go on?

The world was already dark. And now it’s so much emptier and darker without him in it.