“I’m going to do it.” I stated.
“Do what?”
“I’m going to walk up to the bridge on a full moon night?”
“Why are you going to do that. It sounds stupid.”
“I’m going to buy a pack of smokes and walk up to that bridge. Like I did when I was much, much younger.” I declared. “When I had been dangerous.”
“Well, like I said, that’s stupid. What if there is a skunk on the road? What if you get hurt? Being a girl and all alone. What if a car full of strange people, no men or a man, drive by? Did you think about that?”
Actually, I had. I thought to myself. It crossed my mind all the time. A man walking down the road hides behind his masculinity. It’s his shield. It’s the assumed brawn which keeps him safe.
But a female? Why, that is something entirely different. It’s a high octane of anxiety and fear flooding my body. Like the time I was all alone walking on a trail at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. No one was up at that hour, except for a few devout Lutherans. They had been in church; singing their praises. They were of no help when three drunk and extremely high men, who were also up, were approaching me from the opposite direction.
Their eyes were wild and provoked. They swaggered towards me talking all trash. They offered me shocking propositions which I didn’t want.
My heart leapt out of my chest when the three men gathered around me like I knew them. Like I even wanted to know them.
They fucking scared me.
I had been left in a state of paralyzing movement. I needed to finish my walk with an alternative route. Which didn’t seem fair, after all, what had I done wrong?
“So, yeah, of course I thought of it. The thoughts haunt me. I get pissed that it ever happened. I get pissed at my-self when I let it scare me, every time I step out to walk alone.”
“But why? Why do I have to be accosted like that? Is it because I am a girl? And let me tell you, it wasn’t the first. It won’t be the last. I’m pretty scrapy now, but what about when I’m eighty-five?”
“Ahh, once, I was so brave. Dangerous.”
“So, something like walking under a moonlit sky, seems exhilarating to me. I can’t even imagine it.”
“But, yeah, you’re right. It’s probably too dangerous.”
“Wait. I’m wrong. Just pick that full-moon. I’ll be there with you. It won’t be dangerous. I promise. We can be brave together.” I said, to myself.
Chris Writes 