I never left the house again. Sure, I go to the store, I come to work, I go to the farmers market on Sunday. I run errands, go for walks and rides. I interact with people sometimes, and sometimes enjoy it. But mostly I'm waiting to die and tying up loose ends in preparation for it and maybe a little bit engaging in actions that ensure it.
I got old and I didn't become a different person, one who saw themselves and adjusted. It's too deep, what I saw. It's my DNA. I can't change it, so I keep it sequestered. It's the only way.
I have regrets. I did such horrible things, stupid things. They are done and far away and I can't make any of it better, I have to live with the consequences of self. The DNA of self. Guilty and unforgiven. What are we separate from it? I am 50% my mother and 50% my father. What in that is ever me? Only the part that stays home, keeps it out of the public arena, keeps the damage at bay.
I can't have relationships. I function in my bubble of one. I am centric. I live here with the seeds I have sown, my fallow field.
I've been disqualified, there's no room for me in the prevailing narrative. That aside, the prevailing narrative gets more unrelatable as I go along. We are leaving each other behind, mutually.
Yes, I am 50% each parent, what am I separate from them? I am their vessel, they carry on through me, I parrot them while idly observing their every word, act, decision, impulse, option, mood. Parents not too swell, I might add, so what am I of me minus the culmination of not too swell? No thank you, I'll just stay home, thank you, where we're collectively safe.
