After the storm

Tear streaked faces, makeup smeared by heart-rending sobs, tears of anger and remorse, pain-wrenched from eyes too used to crying. The argument started over nothing, an inconsequential throwaway line, but coming at a period of emotional intensity, the wrong words at the wrong time. The consequences of a breakdown in communication, a lack of empathy perhaps, the careless uncaring attitudes of people too used to a comfortable status quo.

The guilt hits hard, the words, now spoken impossible to withdraw, spoken in anger, the honest wrought by passion making them bite even harder, cutting to the bone, wounds that can not heal, scars that will last a lifetime and more. There is no safe path back from this precipice, only the void of empty loneliness awaits, the packed bags of lives shattered by a moments thoughtlessness. The result? Freedom, at a price, but freedom just the same…


About Autistic writing

Im 46, autistic and vocal about it, a specialist autism mentor in higher education, embarking on my MEd in adult autism, autistic advocate and campaigner, writer and co-founder of asP - the autism strategy partnership #differentnotdamaged #askaboutasP

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