• Mathura Hawley

training





I began to scream so loudly and for so long that my voice stopped working. I kicked everything fallen from my suitcase across the room and punched my hand into the bathroom door.

I look into the bag and then back to the woman in the drive thru window, "I ordered onion rings," I say tersely, and she winces and tells the employee near her, who goes to get them but doesn't return. "Can you pull around to the front and we will bring them out to you?" she asks nervously, and I roll my eyes and hit the gas, pissed that my simple order is wrong. I pull around to the front and I get even angrier at what a stupid waste of time this is. I push the jeep into park forcefully. Last night I returned from Palm Springs, my first trip back since April, when I asked Jonah to marry me and he broke up with me without articulating any reason. The trip where I came back single and then Luke died two days later. Since then, I've thrown myself into every personal project I've ever wanted to begin, taught myself new things I wasn't sure I could do, and dove head first into client projects, making myself busy 24/7 and taking me forward.

In the desert this past weekend, I was responsible for no one but myself, and I made the most of my new freedom, making every night an adventure and putting myself out there in ways I have not done in over a decade. I saw an old friend, bought a ticket to an all night party I would have never before had the confidence to go to, made friends at the pool, created a movie moment I will never forget with a hot young guy from LA, had my mind opened with a beautiful man who saw me and guided me through a metaphysical experience for which I will be forever grateful, and allowed myself an extra day when my flight was moved. Last night, when I got home, my landlord left me a message that he was disputing some of the thousands of dollars he owes me from overcharging my rent, and that he intends to add additional costs he feels I owe him from the last few years, even though they aren't on the lease and he's never mentioned them... in other words, he is a man who is trying to fuck me over. I put my phone down, picked up my suitcase and threw it across the room. I forcefully swept everything off the kitchen counter onto the floor. I began to scream so loudly and for so long that my voice stopped working. I kicked everything fallen from my suitcase across the room and punched my hand into the bathroom door. I remember sobbing so hard I could barely catch my breath.. and then, this morning, I woke up on top of the covers on my bed. I have handled two big losses during a time of isolation, and put myself back out there in a high degree of vulnerability. And now, I'm sitting outside Burger King, anxious and angry. And I realize that this is clearly not about onion rings. So I grab a mask, jump out of my jeep, leaving it idling in the lot, run through the door and up to the counter, just as the woman who took my order is coming with my bag. I look at her anxious eyes and see her name tag has "In Training" on it. "I am so, so sorry," I tell her, taking the bag, "and you're doing a great job," and her eyes get wet and she puts her hands up to her face, and I see that she is overwhelmed. "Thank you," she says, and I take my bag and run back to the jeep where I pull over and cry for a few minutes. Because I know in my heart that the only thing that heals pain is kindness, Because I know that anger never leaves on its own, it just finds new ways to ruin everything. And because we are all in training, we all feel pain, we all fuck up, and we all deserve the support of the guy who comes in to say "good job," and not the asshole who drives away.




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