About 2 weeks ago: As I made my way across the street, my feet lost their skill of functionality and I fell in the middle of the pedestrian crossing.
I got quite intimate, forcibly so, with that pedestrian crossing. After much thought, I’ve since assigned a name. I call him, John.
John, the dirty old man. He worked with his friend known as Gravity.
Oh and by the way...Everyone saw me fall.
I was in Half Way Tree, in St. Andrew – Right across the street from the main bus terminal in that area.
How did this happen?
Listen, to this day, I’m still trying to figure out how I ended up flat in the street. I didn’t trip, no one pushed me, and I didn’t feel faint.
At least… I don’t remember experiencing any of those sensations.
Gravity noticed that my feet failed and he motioned to John who welcomed me with wide-open arms…?? And my body (or the functioning parts) fell right in….??
I have no idea. It’s all speculations.
The setting is a drive-in/walk-in open-air cinema and the main characters were: Candice, John the filthy pedestrian crossing and his friend called Gravity.
All I know is I was walking and then I wasn’t walking and then I fell.
I don’t know, okay?
I just fell. And it hurt!
How much did it hurt?
I’ve never been to hell but I imagine the pain I endured was hell’s distant cousin.
Once my feet failed I fell forward and Gravity did just enough for me to be violated by John.
Gravity pulled and John scratched up my left knee, cut my right palm, bruised my left palm and he hurt my back.
Did anyone come to help?
In true Candice fashion, I quickly jumped up and pretended like I was okay.
One woman came to me and checked but by the time she touched me, I was already up and wobbling away — shaking like a leaf.
God knows I wanted to bawl but I’m a G so I thugged it out and cleared the area as quickly as I could.
I wobbled onto a bus and paid with my bloodied palm. I dragged my body with the scratched up knee to the nearest seat and cried. But I cried only for a few seconds.
Cause I’m a G.
It was frightening, embarrassing, and my anxiety went through the roof!
The germophobe in me had several mini panic attacks. My clothes were dirty, my right palm was bloodied with all of John’s nastiness in there. My other palm was filthy and my left knee was cut up and dirty.
Everywhere was scratched except my right knee. I have no clue how to explain that.
I then took out my baby wipes and tried my best to clean the wounds.
The LessonI want to be the wise one and tell you that life will sometimes knock you down and hurt you and all you have to do is get back up and brush yourself off.
Ain’t nobody tryna hear that!
I just care that I fell in the heart of the city, I hurt myself and everyone saw!
I’m legitimately scarred for life now. Scarred!
I am grateful though because it could’ve been way worse.
In all seriousness, I lived through that and I’ve likened that horrid experience to everyday dealings.
There will come a time when you’ll fall and hurt yourself. It’s just a matter of if you get back up, get away from the situation, heal and make more movements.
Cause, one week after falling, I passed the scene and though I was scared out of my mind, I walked through that valley of shadow and feared nothing.
How do you intend on dealing with the time(s)/when you’ll fall?
Signed with love…?