I Don’t Deserve

I had felt like crying all day. Heartache would lurch forward, stuttering, sudden and unexpected. A surprise for my composure. Choking back unwanted emotion, it was all I could do to swallow down sorrow. Mantras: Turn away from the hurt. Keep my eyes averted from the loss of composure. Keep my hands on the wheel of self control. Flare ups of faltering just sent me failing.
It doesn’t get easier. It just gets different. A peanut shell is just a shell until this time September. My mother says she remembers every second. 15 years later.
I’m jumpy, jittery. Suspicious as all hell. When a well known, troubled patron came into my office I eyed his shaking hands, his twitchy eyes and untucked shirt with paranoia. Harmless, he swayed from foot to foot as he explained he wanted to read something to me. I nodded, unable to voice my reluctant consent. I should be used to this by now. When he finished he folded his paper and started for the door. Harmless. To my surprise he didn’t walk out the door, instead he abruptly closed it. Shocked, panic nearly broke through paranoia and I started to protest. Harmless or not I was alarmed. He had locked the rest of the world out. No one could get in. Caged out. Before I could utter a single sound this nervous, twitching, skittish, peculiar patron produced a pitch pipe and started to sing. His voice waivered and trembled but never missed a note. His face took on a look of complete calm as he kept his voice quiet. His song was haunting and sad, beautiful and sweet. Short, too. Just as abruptly he finished, gave me a quick bow and was gone. Leaving the door to my once thought of cage open.
I do not deserve the kindness of you when all I do is dread and doubt. Jumping to conclusions, jumping out of my skin. I’m angry because I can’t sit still and accept your gifts graciously. I’m sad because I’ve let the words and advice of others taint my judgement of you (restraining order?). There is no reason to be jumpy or judgemental, yet I am.