The Past Is Never Far (and poetry)
In writing this today, I’m attempting to take a break from the anger and the outrage. I’ve got my cup of coffee. It’s early as hell.
I read the news before coffee. That was a mistake.
It’s been a week of ups and downs. Someone who bullied me in middle school (terribly—he made my life hell. I cried a lot) engaged in an actual discussion on the Book of Face. We stumbled across each other on a mutual friend’s post. I put on my Former Professor hat (I did that very briefly, but I had the best mentor) and calmly pointed out logic, reason, and where his argument fell wildly short.
And to my shock, he had no rebuttal.
My initial, gut reaction to seeing his comment was not kind. So, I sat with it and decided to be someone Mr. Rogers would’ve been proud of. That sounds flippant, but I’m not joking.
He has also sent me a message, apologizing for his behavior when we were kids. I haven’t answered yet, because I’m not sure what to say. At this point, that kind of apology is about forgiveness/his conscience more than anything else. It can’t go back in time and fix the pain I lived through. Pain that I carried with me for years and years.
But the truth is, I haven’t thought about him about 30 years. The person I am now would use his bones to pick my teeth. He didn’t make me stronger—I made myself stronger. And I was already a fighter and stubborn shit since Day 1.
(Truthfully, if I’d been a different person, with a different support system, I don’t know that I would’ve made it through middle school. It was that bad.)
I can’t say it’s okay, because it wasn’t. I can’t say I forgive him, because those are just words. He says he’s changed, but has he? Who knows. I hope so. But none of that can travel back in time. You know?
I don’t bear him a grudge. I don’t wish him ill. But again: I haven’t thought about him in 30 years. He’s clearly thought about me. It’s strange.
In other news, I’ve got two things worth mentioning!
Sarah Lemon, a friend of a friend, is battling a really rare cancer. I know we’re all stretched thin, but please kick to her GoFundMe in if you can and share if you can’t.
If you are nominating for the Rhyslings, Nebulas, or Hugos, I’d really love for you to consider my poetry from 2025 for nomination.
@strangehorizons.bsky.social -- "Of Water, Always Seeking" http://strangehorizons.com/poetry/of-water-always-seeking/
@smallwondersmag.com -- "Let It Be Your Call" https://smallwondersmag.com/piece/let-it-be-your-call/
@dreamtheorymedia.bsky.social -- "Rhiannon Remembers Her Own Name" https://www.dreamtheory.media/rhiannon-remembers-her-own-name/
@enchantedlivingmag.bsky.social -- "I Know Why Ophelia Picked Her Own Bouquet" with the divine @kambriel.com (nominate us as a pair, if you do!) https://enchantedlivingmag.com/collections/enchanted-living-back-issues/products/enchanted-living-issue-71-summer-2025-print (email or comment if you need the text)
@spacecowboybooks.bsky.social "I, Robot" https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/spacecowboybooks/episodes/2025-07-15T05_41_16-07_00
https://youtu.be/wRzEvqbrn2c?si=caVuM0rhBiq1dmoS
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