These Pink Matters

By Chantel Watson

Every day, we face new battles while trying not to revisit the old ones. When we think with the wrong Pink, we usually don't realize until it's too late. These Pink Matters is a collection of poems, short stories, and inner thoughts about love, loss & life. Sometimes we can't place blame, and we have to own our mistakes. Other times, we have

• Language: English
• Publisher: P.S. Love, Chan LLC
• Release date: Oct 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781735508085

Book preview

Gone Too Soon

Loss is a part of life, yet we’re never really prepared for it. There’s something about things being so definite and final that makes it that much harder. We expect our elders to transition, so sometimes, it makes it easier to accept. But what happens when it’s a young person? Someone who wasn’t even old enough to drink legally? As a child, processing death may be one of the most challenging battles.

I’ll never forget the hurt in my cousin’s voice when I answered the phone. I had no idea what had happened, but I knew that something was wrong. It was fear and trauma that I had never heard. As I tried to decipher the overwhelming background noises, I’d soon learn that nothing could prepare me for what he was going to say.

It’s Jamell, he gone. He’s dead.

It was as if 1000 bees had collectively stung me. Every word broke my heart into 1000 more pieces. For some reason, I couldn’t find the truth in words. My great-grandparents were watching TV and hadn’t heard the news yet. I knew that it wasn’t my place to break this devastating news to them. I silently broke down; everything had gotten dark for me. I hated life. Everything hurt, and nothing made sense. No one could make it better. I couldn’t understand why this was happening to us. The more that I thought about it, the more things became distorted.

Once I began to process what had just happened, I called my best friend to come back and get me. We drove around for hours. I didn’t want to discuss it, and they respected my silence. There was nothing to say. Evil voices and loud noises infiltrated my mind. Every few minutes, I thought about opening the door and just rolling out into traffic. It took everything in me to shake the thought. I couldn’t put my family through that pain twice in one day. As hard as it was, I fought the urge.

How does a 15-year old deal with this? It hurt so badly. The pain was indescribable. Jay’s death was by far the worst pain I’d experienced. It fucking hurt. He had his whole life ahead of him. He was my big brother. I’d finally told them to take me back home, and as expected, I was in trouble. I didn’t even care. What the hell could they do to me at this point? Nothing was worse than this. I went to my room and cried myself to sleep.

Every day after that was a struggle. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to go to school. I didn’t want to leave my room. I tried hard to accept losing you, but it was too soon. It took years for me to really come to terms with it. Even then, I was always teetering on that line. To add insult to injury, I wasn’t even able to go to your funeral. It hurt. I was heartbroken once again, but at the same time, it was a blessing. How was I supposed to see you in a casket, knowing that this was the end? Some days, I think it worked out for the best. Shortly after, you found a way to me and let me know that things were okay. I thank you for understanding.

I made a promise to us that I’d visit you when I made it to Atlanta. It wasn’t negotiable. Since no one had been down there to visit you since your funeral, no one knew how to find you. I must’ve spent 2 hours looking around the cemetery for you. We never located your resting place. I cried for hours. I couldn’t believe that I was so close yet so far. It crushed me. With a feeling of defeat, I went back a second time. This time, we found you. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was what I needed to continue healing. You may have physically departed, but your spirit remains. Not a day went by where I wouldn’t think of him and the memories. It didn’t take long for me to express my never fading love for him. A simple anklet tattoo with my cousin’s initials, but his J had a halo over it. This tattoo meant the most. No matter what we went through or if we don’t speak, they would forever be a part of me.

MTJC Forever.

I Love You, Jamell.

14 Days, Too Weak

Spring Break 2011 was a helluva time. When my best friends and I got together, we’d turn today’s moments into forever’s memories. As the week progressed, things began to change. Attitudes started to clash, and by Wednesday, there was an obvious issue. Everyone may have been ready to get back to the regularly scheduled rat race. I had a few days of vacation left, so this was a perfect time to get my doctor’s appointments, and things of that nature squared away.

I was able to squeeze in an appointment for that coming Friday and continued with my day. When the time arose, I showed up as I usually would. All women know, no matter how many times you go to the OB-GYN, you’re never really prepared or ready for it. Something is always awkward. Not only that, but this was also my first appointment with a male doctor. It took maybe 20 minutes, but I made it through, and at the end, he said, Okay, you’ll live until you’re 90, see you next year! Although that was music to the ears, there was still a question that went unanswered.

As I got my belongings together, the medical assistant came back in, and