Please read “About this project and the Author” for more information on my project. In this excerpt, Daryl speaks about love.
“…I have been trained to wish for love so intensely and for so long, in the end it’s the wishing that contents me and as more time passes, I become less willing to trade that comfort for the uncertainty that often accompanies actual love. I swear the stuff the human spirit can learn to live with.
As a result, I choose to have relationships but never to really be in one, hovering instead on the surface and when things get too deep, when the uncertainty becomes all there is, silence comes to the rescue. Just like silence came to my rescue on the faithful day I was taken from my family and driven to an orphanage in a big white car by a complete stranger wearing a suit.
Love. Love, what else, would be my curse, an inescapable failure throughout the years as a result of the words written for me long ago in the chapter of my life discussing affection and intimacy. Like all children I wished and expected for certain matters of the heart to unfold naturally. I expected love from my mother, instead she disappeared behind a closed door and left me to stand as an orphan by my suitcase. I expected to share a bond with my brothers and my sister, but we became strangers instead. I wished for love from the first family I was sent to, but they broke my bones, tore my skin and planted the seed of shame inside of me. Deep down, I wished for love from or for each of the other families I crossed path with, in return I rejected them or they rejected me.
I wasn’t the victim in all of this. Love, what else, was the victim.
So, what could possibly compel me to tell my story now and in such details after all the years of efforts I deployed to blur its images with a thick veil of silence? Love, what else. Love, and woman. A stunning and brilliant woman who also disappeared behind a closed door in a moment that awoke in me a feeling so old, the dust raised by that gesture made my heart sneeze. A woman who has in her eyes a kindness equal only to that of Danielle’s and who has twice the good looks of “Andrée with two e’s”. She wished for closeness, she received nothing but silence instead. I look forward to beg for her forgiveness while holding a bag of fresh pastries…”
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This project is entirely written on an iPad.
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