Note: This is more of a personal essay than a short story, but no such flair exists. My beta readers said it might be important enough to try to get published. Any advice or feedback or notes you have are greatly appreciated. This piece contains strong emotions and ideas that could be challenging for some. I don’t think it’s incindiary or offensive, but it might too soon.
My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family. I hope you have a swift recovery and no lasting injuries. I’m not religious and I don’t pray, but a prayer is a hope and I have plenty of that.
I hope your friends and family provide the support everyone needs during difficult times. I hope you have someone in your life you can talk to. I hope you’re able to reflect on how this historic moment has come to pass. I hope this experience has shown you that violence does not solve problems; violence creates more violence. I hope that when you consider how to move forward, you approach that choice with gratitude for the gift of being able to choose at all. I hope you find contentment on a path that reflects the truth of your heart.
I have many thoughts as well. I think you’re right, I don’t think America is great anymore. And I think that for some of us, it never was. I didn’t vote for you. And You wouldn’t want me to. But I also want America to be better than it is. And the America I want, looks a lot like the one you used to talk about.
The America we both want is Just. One where good people thrive and those who choose to hurt others, don’t. We both want an America where we’re free to pursue the happiness of our dreams. We both want an America that values family. Where children grow up safe from harm and unafraid to ask for help. An America that could have helped the boy who shot you before it was too late for him.
We both agree that America could be better. But, doesn’t seem to be a place for me in your great American dream.
To you I am Other. I’ve watched your speeches. I’ve heard how you talk about people like me. I’ve seen how the people that love you, hate me. How they strip away my rights and make the world less safe for the people I love.
I’m afraid of how the people who love you, and hate me, might change all of our lives. I’m afraid that the bullet that grazed you, struck a mortal wound in what’s left of the America that we both love.
I hate that we let things get like this. I hate that we’re so divided. I hate that anyone who disagrees is Enemy. I hate that we can only see Other; and not other people.
I’m not afraid of you. And I don’t hate you; I can’t because I don’t your heart. But, from afar your life seems tragic. You have privilege, but no comfort can sooth the emptiness of never feeling like enough. It’s not your fault you were given that burden. But you are responsible for your what you’ve done with it.
I wish someone in your life could show you that you’re enough. That you are loved for no other reason then who you are when no one is watching. That the only reason anyone hates you is because of the fear you wield and the suffering you have caused with it. But, I get the sense you don’t have anyone in your life willing to try. The people around you don’t seem like they’re your friends. They seem like they’re using you. The young man who shot you also didn’t have someone that could reach him. He let his hatred drive him to violence and paid for it with his life. But your story continues and you still can make the choice to be better.
I am no one. My voice and my story only matter to me and the people in my life. I have no power, no influence, no wealth. No one on my ballot in November represents my interests. I don’t even have much agency in my own life. I am the disenfranchised loner that didn’t shoot, because I got lucky.
I was dealt a bad hand and made very poor decisions because of it. If I hadn’t been taught to hate myself because I was Other, my story would already be over. That hatred made me withdrawn and afraid. I was a scared kid who grew up to be an angry teenager. A teenager that hurt the people they loved. Who drove away the few friends they had. I thought I was a monster.
I hid from everyone online, myself most of all, and found people who made me feel less alone. They didn’t need to recruit me. The pitch was seductive. “You’re okay; you hurt because of Other”. I got lucky that Other again included me.
You may never have heard from someone like me before. I might just be everyone’s Other. Inconvenient and Problematic. On paper, I’m radioactive. Classmates described me as creepy and weird. Adults described me as troubled. The people I have loved and hurt the most have unpleasant and confusing stories that would end any public life I might have. I have a history of mental illness and a history of anger problems. I have trouble holding a job. Trouble maintaining relationships. I have a record. I’m an abuse survivor, but I’ve also been an abuser. I am not great, but I am trying to be better.
The only reason I can share my thoughts and prayers with you is because I am transgender. Learning that truth about myself forced me to confront the person that I was. Healing is a process and I still have bad days. But my journey has taught me that if I just try, I can build a life worth living; without having to hurt anyone to get it. And if I can do it, so can you.
America has made some mistakes and we’re all hurting because of it. But we can be better. I have no illusion that I or anyone else has more than a prayer’s chance of changing what’s to come. But a prayer is a hope and I do have hope.
I hope that hope can move you. I hope you show the people you love that you love them. I hope you see that fortune smiled on you. And I hope you use that luck to try and be better. I hope you see how the people you hate have people who love them, too. I hope you see the hate you have helped to spread. I hope you see that it lead a vulnerable young man to do something he couldn’t take back.
I hope you find a better path and can set a better example for the people that love you, and hate me. I hope you show them how we can be great, together. I hope that history remembers you as the man who changed the world by changing his heart and not the heartless man who made it worse for everyone else. I hope that you can find peace in your dotage and fill your life with people that love you.
I hope I’m not crushed under the boots of the men that chant your words when they rise to infamy. I hope that my story ends with love. I hope that if someone like me can change, anyone can. I hope that we can see how poorly we treat each other before we do something we can’t take back. I hope we can be free of the fear that whispers in our ears and the hate that guides our hearts. And I hope that we can find a new dream together.
I’m not naive. I’m afraid my hope is a thought and the dream of a better tomorrow is a prayer. But you are in my thoughts and prayers and I hope that’s enough.
submitted by /u/Bosch_Bitch
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