(no subject)

[crashmargulies]

 My family calls each other when we make it to our destination safely now. We run errands in pairs and trios. We've packed go-bags complete with irreplaceable items like late pets' collars and photos of friends. We wear our most important jewelry. We keep the cat carriers by the door.

 

My partner and I are getting silicone wedding rings after months of dithering because there's nothing else we can do to prove to anyone that we care about each other in case of an emergency--if they don't care to recognize her legal wife then what will I even matter?

 

We talk about going somewhere else. I think all of us know there is nowhere really to go.

 

We carry whistles but like Becca Good said: we have whistles, they have guns. In our streets. In the parking lot of the strip mall where I used to buy my hair dye as a teenager. At the grocery store I shopped at when I lived 4 blocks north of Renee Good's murder. 

 

I am afraid. For someone who has wanted to die a lot of my life I find I don't want to do it this way at the same time as I accept, every time I leave the house, that it would be better to be me than anyone else.