Dead Janes

I should not tell this story. It’s almost two AM in the morning. I am fatigued beyond belief and drunk too. I have to write this down though. If I wait, it will be gone. I need this for myself.

This afternoon I listened to a beautiful woman tell me heartbreaking stories about her life. Some of it involved being homeless with a child and clawing herself back into existence. The worst of it was about the woman she lived with who was brutally murdered in her home in one of the safest suburbs in the United States. Jane, her best friend, a woman she loved, left three children behind.

Then I sat and listened to another attractive woman, a friend, who told me about how miserable her life was. How her friend for twenty years was getting married and she felt she would never see him again. The worst of it was when she told me how her best friend, Jane, killed herself.

I spent this day listening. Now, I wonder what it was about these two Janes that would make these two other women pour their hearts out to me, a total stranger.

There must be that much tradgedy and pain in the world to make me a lightening rod for it.

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Published in: on February 13, 2008 at 3:11 am  Comments (4)  

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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. You have hit a new genre of stray dogs, apparently! I must admit (since I know from experience), you do have a knack for comforting people and listening while they bear their souls to you. That’s a gift, actually – probably also a curse…

  2. V,

    Given my energy level yesterday, listening was a challenge.

  3. What level were you at? E told me you had a rough night…

  4. V,

    I’m doing fine now. I slept the sleep of the damned and the doomed.


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