Serendipity has been by big mate during this last, oops sorry biggest battle I have been waging for months. As I browsed my FB page this morning my eye fell on a link that said: Coming out of your closet I do not know why I clicked on it and listened to Ash Beckham's video. What caught my attention was the sub title: A 4-Year-Old Girl Asked A Lesbian If She's A Boy. She Responded The Awesomest Way Possible. After listening to this incredible life lesson I realised how many closets I had had, and some I still have and how we hide in our dark closets with a grenade in our hand. She says: At some point in our lives, we all live in closets and they may feel safe, or at least safer than what lies on the other side of that door. But I’m here to tell you, no matter what your walls are made of, a closet is no place for a person to live.
The words were prophetic. They explained the feeling of extreme disquietude bordering on fear that I have been experiencing and have not be able to comprehend and voice. Just a she says I was in a dark closet and needed to break out no matter how hard. I crawled into this closet on the day I knew about Ranjan's cancer and hid in it too frightened to scream my fear. I put up a show for the world, but night after night I was back in the closet. And too make matters worse, I came across pages and pages of medical jargon such as remission and secondary cancers, and one statistic that screamed at me at every page: the 5 year survival rate. My closet is the gnawing terror of losing the one I love most. Here I have said it loud and clear. I am scared of losing the one I love just as I lost my most loved ones 2 decades ago.
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