Suspension

Whenever I caught wind of what was going on, I was torn. On the one hand, it seemed smartest to leave the phone turned off, go out perhaps, and generally pretend that I was totally oblivious to what was afoot. In the off-chance that things got really bad, I had to prepare beforehand as to what statements I would make. I would profess complete ignorance, of course, but admit my concerns that things would turn out this way. No one could accuse me of negligence, I told myself. But at the same time, I knew all this was only delaying the inevitable. Much better to get it over with, to see just how bad things were. I would turn on the phone with a minor tremble of my hands, and spend the next minute or so in the opposite end of the house, just hoping I would come back to a blank screen. When I returned, invariably I would it be as I feared: confirmation. My heart would sink and pulse quicken. Reading that missive would leave me with nothing to do but lie down, waiting in terror for the next installment. Once an hour or so had passed - the window of opportunity past - I would somehow get up and try to pretend the whole thing never happened. Until the next time.

Thinking on those times, I feel inclined to ask whoever cares to listen whether I'm owed some of those hours back. But if once I thought that was what a just world demanded, now I'm not so sure. Indeed, I think there was a lesson I had to learn the hard way: no one has the slightest plan on saving you from your own choices. "Wish that I knew what I know now..."