In those moments of impact I thought about Christina, a girl my adoptive sister went to high school with who's face was so damaged by going through the windshield.. When a classmate found her body, he said, "her face didn't look human."
Then I thought of Kayla, a girl I grew up sharing the same classes with. She t-boned a truck our senior year and passed later that week. I had been in a similar car crash 2 years ago and thanked her for protecting us then, and I get why she couldn't do it twice.
Out of no where I thought of my adoptive mom.. And how truly sad I am it never worked out for us. I was sorry all I did was fill her need of motherhood with disappointment.
I thought of my birthmother and how happy I was to see my home this summer. That if she was alive I'd be watching over her, and if she had passed her little girl would be with her soon.
Lastly I thought of Double D and how it broke my heart he wasn't the last man I had kissed.. Then I became aware I was buckled in, perfectly safe, and fine. But for those 5 moments the whole world stopped. I wasn't praying to God or see bright halo lights, nor did I feel the heat of flames. What I thought were my final thoughts were confessions I wish someone had been around to hear. I thought my heart had stopped, and I must have been dying, bleeding out somewhere on the ground.. I was dying alone.
On Halloween I crashed my car, and walked away with only a mild concussion and a scratch on my chin. I had just left my friends after a show, and ended up on the phone with Double D. It was the first time we had takes in 2 months. I was heading to his place, but it ended up being a long night of towing, and the ER. I wasn't able to talk to anyone until the next day.
I texted Double D I was sorry I didn't make it. I didn't want him to think I got freaked out and turned around. He texted that when I didn't show up after an hour he knew something was wrong. He typed that he does care about me a lot and that he was so worried. We made plans to go out later that night and I stayed with him. Once we broke into our first kiss he wouldn't let me go, like he thought I'd get hurt again. He kept kissing my forehead and squeezing me tight, like he had to protect me. As much as I crave that sense of special belonging, it also freaked me out.
That night he suddenly brought up adoption. He talked about how hard it must be to be a birth parent. He said it's not the feeling of loosing a child, it's the not knowing that kills you. Not knowing if your baby is alive or dead, not knowing where they are. He told me how scared he got not knowing if I was alive or dead.
Few white people can understand adoption that well. I'm so quick to kick people out of my life that I forget some people do understand even though they can't feel it. I can't keep kicking people out just because it's not working, or because I'm scared if getting hurt. I have to stop reacting and start working through things with people.
I need to give friends a real chance to get close to me.