Watching, waiting
Who is the girl in the photograph? What was she thinking and feeling that day? The look in her eyes is one of such excitement and exhilaration. The whole world is open to her - like a vast treasure chest of endless possibility waiting to be explored.
The thoughts flashed through my mind as I quickly put her i.d. back on the library book where she left it...
Today, I followed her across the struggle of her day. The unwillingness to face the world - watched as she forced herself not to retreat. Laughed at her as she feigned order by making sure the bed was made and the dishes washed. Replete with her list of things to do and armed with a stash of cookies, watched as she ventured to the streets below.
I see now why she pushes so hard, always focused on the next goal. On days like this it is all she can do to hang on - white-knuckle gripped to an abstract sense of purpose. The empty hollowness on her face knows no joy, no accomplishment, no sense of worth.
She waits it out, believing the darkness of the day, the week, will pass. She pushes because at the bottom of that abyss there is nothing - only a vague distant memory of a purpose - something she was working toward, with pride perhaps or tolerance.
I wish I could say it is resilience that brings her back, but each time there is no guarantee she will return. No reason, no signal or trigger, just a snap moment that sends her away or draws her back - like a limp ragdoll, a little more tattered each time.
In her numbness lay frustration and hope begotten of patience. I watch her as she continues to wait.
When the sun had finally set, she sat down in the library and wrote about her day.
Posted by Amanda at November 05, 2002 09:12 PM
