Now I can blog about it. Live through this, and Ill look back.

I went on a 27 mile bike ride yesterday with one of my old History teachers. Ive been with him on several occasions and always encountered something interesting. I usually never realize that Im biking so much. I absolutely love that. Because who on earth would be able to do that on their own?? So, this is how the traumatizing day layed out.

I get to the place we always meet in Sand springs. I pick out my bike. Everything is fine. We bike. It was beautiful. 80 degrees with a slight breeze. I was sailing. My mind was clear from all the shit that has happened in the past week. I felt me, peircing the air with two tires and pedals. I had no ipod to remind me of past days. Just the sound of traffic and the clicking of that good ol' bike... oh and the occasional projection of wisdom from my teacher. Beautiful.

We bike to downtown tulsa, everything is fine. I have green tea from QT, great. Then on our way back inbetween downtown and sandsprings, I saw a group of guys huddling on the pathway over something. I get closer and they walk away, leaving a heap of something behind. I thought is was a dog at first...

We bike up close enough and see it is a human, a woman, a person with a heart beat and a childhood and someone with dreams and love and kindness and heartache...

I get off my bike and see she is lying down on her head. Blood, surrounded her hair. She was moaning and obviously in pain. I went into momma mode. You know what Im talking about? where you do anything for that person. Provide all that you can. YOu dont care if your hands get dirty either. I held her hand and talked to her. Some neighbor that witnessed it came up and I suggested to call the cops, so that was taken care of. This is what I got from her. Her name is susie, she had a fiance but he died. She has no teeth and green shorts that came up really far. Her nails were dirty and really, really long. In repition, I heard her say she tried... she really did try. She was about forty or fifty something. She held my hand like grandma. She gurgled like grandma. She had blue eyes like grandma. She was homeless and scared.

As soon as we heard the sirens, My teacher made us leave. I got on my bike reluctantly, left my water bottle for her and started to cry. I had a flash back of my grandma. I saw her in this woman. In this heart. I saw the same suffering heart. I felt what I havnt felt in almost a year and I broke down. I was the only one crying.

I was told, I did the right thing. But it didnt make me feel any less emotional. Sure, I did the right thing, but will she be alright? I dont understand what these people have in them to think they can beat up a woman, homeless or not, drunk or not, drugged or not. It makes me so sick. It makes me want to love even more. Yes we were in a bad part of tulsa, yes it happens every day, but does it make it okay? or alright? FUCK NO.

Im angry, im sad, Im heartbroken. I want a better world. I want to help, nurture, cry, scream, stomp on the ground. Anything to stop one heart from breaking. Thank you Emily Dickinson.


If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. (Emily Dickinson)