An Open Letter: Let us pause before we bury
Dear neighbors,
I’ve had a pain in my chest for a couple of days. It’s a tight knot. I can feel it when I stretch or bend over.
Yesterday, suddenly, that spot started radiating out chills. My whole body shook and tears started pouring down my cheeks. I lost all control — my body needed to express something and my mind was unable to have a say. I sat in a crowded place, sobbing. Eventually I ran to the exit to get fresh air — away from the crowd of people, away from my friends. With my back against the side of a brick wall, I burst into hysterical tears. The kind of crying when you feel like you can’t breath and you have to kneel down because the weight of the night sky is a lead blanket descending. Between coughing up tears and trying to catch up my breath, I realized this was a physical sensation I had never experienced. It was somewhere between heartbreak, grief, and deep disorientation.
When asked what was wrong, the best I could explain was: “I’m afraid it’s all going to be gone. That we’re going to lose it all… I’m afraid the Metro PCS store will stop playing go-go.”
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