Based on a recent social media conversation with Hopkins' aunt, I think it's time to point something out: the night that he graduated, he said something to me of which I have always been quite keenly aware:
"I have given you as much of myself as I could."
Had he not followed that up with the notorious "forgetting everyone and everything" quotation, I, for one, would have been a hell of a lot less hurt. In the moment, I couldn't process it. I was too busy being absolutely devastated.
There are some truths that we bury deep inside ourselves because dealing with them in their most bald-faced forms is too painful. Sometimes we try to manufacture meaning or create sincerity or invest people with emotions that they can't feel. They are who they are, and we're aware of it; our inability to accept it is at our own risk.
Since she took it upon herself to be the Voice of Reason and there is no truly valid counterargument, well, I gave up. I called the therapist whose name I'd been given by a friend and made an appointment for later this week.
Kentucky author Bobbi Buchanan wrote a brief, pointed piece about Mother's Day this year that resonated with me, and the final line was haunting: Girls who stuff the hope chest with feathers and forever silence their dreams.
What if you stopped hoping a long time ago, because you knew that it was useless, or that it might end up leaving you humiliated or embarrassed? What dreams? I learned as a young girl that those things exist only for other people; I suffocated on the feathers long ago.