A different kind of trauma

Consider this: You’re laying in bed on a Saturday night. You’ve had the best day ever. You were productive. You ate healthy. You are well. You learned something new. Life is good.

You close your eyes. Your mind begins to wonder. It floats past your meal plan for the week. You pray. Your prayers fade. Your partner is laying peacefully next to you. You need to go to sleep. You’re trying.

You think about your dog. Fantasize about future travel plans. Think about past embarrassing moments. Business plans. Product designs. New ideas. Colors. The sky. Your friends. Your friend. He’s dead.

No. No. No. Not that again. Adjust your thoughts.

Hmmm what else can I think about?

Shit. He’s dead. Damn really.

This will be the night I will finally get this figured out. I’ll just sort it out one more time in case I missed something. Let me just go back in time and THINK.

Your partner puts his hand on yours. You cringe. That interrupted your thought.

The one second you took to remember.

Back to it. Your friend is gone. That makes you sad. You’re not in the mood to be sad. No. You’re angry.

Think about something else. Enjoy life right now.

Why God?

Kittens. Good food. Tacos. My family. His family. Oh God.

He did that. He shot himself. Back to this again. Why? Couldn’t he of…. but why didn’t he… if he only…. but I guess I get it…

No. The blood. His parents. The gun. Anger. Justification. He was tired. He was over it. I know he loved life… surely?

Your partner moves in closer to hold you. You almost made sense of it.

If only you I had one more second to finish that thought.

Concentrate. Any clues? Then? There? How?


They kiss your cheek.

Interrupted with the love your friend so desperately needed. You try to enjoy the moment. You’re so lucky. Let these thoughts go. Self hate sinks in. I can’t enjoy this moment. You need a minute to figure this out. Don’t touch me.

You move away. You need more time to think. How could someone do that? Where are they now? This is what we’re left with?

You think about science. Religious theory. The bang. Him dropping. The nerve.

Your partner breathes you’re way. Annoying. Think about all the things you probably did wrong. They touch your arm. No thanks.


The Bible. Gods Mercy. Angels.

Can’t say what you’re thinking about. Depressing. On such a good day like today? Why? The impact. The stress. The bang. The moment before. During. After. How did that feel? Did he feel it? Contemplating.

This is what we’re left with.

You nudge an inch to your side of the bed to your own space. I need a second. I’m drowning. Disturbed. What’s wrong they ask?

Nothing I’m tired.

You’re mad at yourself because you want to be in a good mood. A good nights sleep. Pleasant thoughts. I wish.

That trauma. Even on your best days.

Think positive. Think positive. Think positive.


This is different though.



Trying. Trying. Trying.

New thought…. where are you?

Bang. The impact.

A lot of people probably never even think about someone they love getting shot… much less this. I really hate this.

That image.

Will this ever go away?

It’s hot. Please move.

Your partner gets tired of your attitude and rolls over.

Silence. One second of mental silence.


You’re cold now. The warmth from their love fades. How ironic.

Another day of this

This is out of place and wrong. I don’t want these thoughts. So creepy.

Why am I like this?

You look at your partner in the dark. They probably think you’re a monster. They drift off to sleep.

Back to the beginning. You pray. Your prayers are long. Desperate. You pray for peace.

Think nothing. Think nothing.

Your partner is asleep. You got the space you wanted.

Now you’re done obsessing.

You really need a hug.

So cold.

If they only knew.

This is what we’re left with

On your best day ever.