i cried walking down the street

i watch other people touching each other effortlessly like it’s a science

saturday 13 december, 2025

i watch other people touching each other effortlessly like it’s a science — a casual squeeze of the shoulder, hugs that come naturally. i am afraid of being touched. i crave being touched. all i want is to be held tightly. i might cry if someone touched me.

i’m writing sitting on the grass at the waterfront park, listening to somebody to love by queen. i’m in my queen phase after watching my friend’s school show, the jukebox musical we will rock you.

i went back home to play the guitar and see my dog, teddy. i learned to play tears in heaven by eric clapton and sing along semi-decently. i practiced landslide by fleetwood mac, one of my favourites to play. teddy was ecstatic to see me. i held his paws until he fell asleep.

my mother keeps telling me i’m “a big girl now” and i should become more mature — i.e. stop giving into my suicidal thoughts. then it’s “my daughter” this, “my daughter” that. i look into the mirror and see a boy with breasts. so i bind them away and pretend i can’t hear my mother.

i cried walking down the street because i witnessed a loving family in action. just living, interacting with each other. i know them and i know the dad was beaten by his mother when he was little and vows to never become like her. these parents have never raised a hand against their children. this brought all the grief for my childhood crashing over me like a wave. and i thought i was well past this, now that i have a good relationship with my parents, who care and would never hit me again. now, i think i am. in the moment, though, it just all came back for a little bit.

when i was visiting home my mother showed me this “trick” they have with teddy. so one person pretends to hit another person, and teddy will defend the person being hit by biting the person doing the hitting. it was funny, until my mother picked up a clotheshanger and banged it on the table and pretended to hit my sister with it, just like she used to do to me when i was little, only back then it was for real. i retreated and thought i might have a panic attack.

i’m still not back at school since i attempted suicide in mid-november. i’ll be back in january at the earliest. i want so badly to go back to school, even if people stare.

i want to live, not just exist or survive. but how?