secrets and fears

In the fall, we attended a high school football game. As friends and acquaintances clambered to their seats around us, toting popcorn and hotdogs, I realized that their cheerful hellos would be a thing of the past once they all knew. The grief was overwhelming. Grief for easy friendships become wary, grief for trust become suspicion. I don't know what their reaction will be. All I know is that the world will change. People will never see our family the same way again.

Now, whenever our family attends an event, I look around and wonder which people in this group--church, school, neighborhood, family--will remain friends with us. This makes me wary of them before I know they deserve it.

At work, I stop going out for lunch with friends. Instead, I get in my car and drive. I find a park where I can sit alone and think. I use the time to talk to the attorney, arrange appointments with therapists, read articles I printed off the internet.

I am isolated.