Officer Payne knocked on my hotel door about 2 weeks ago, all 6 foot 4 of him.
An ‘off duty ‘ visit , he said he’d tried to see me 5 times before, but I’d not been in.
We’d met when he answered the ‘suicide alert’ back on Easter Sunday, where he’d spent an hour with me, talking and trying his best not to have to arrest me ( for my own sake ).
That day I was ‘in pieces’ , close to tears all of the time. He asked me so many questions – what had happened to me, about my life before, about my children, about why I was in Kentucky, and about why I thought that day should be my last.
I hadn’t realised how much he’d been affected by our meeting, and how often he’d thought of me, until he came to visit.
He very convincingly, yet caringly, explained that he’d always look out for me, would be instantly available to me, and how if I was ever bothered by anyone at all, he’d come round ‘to crush them’.
I was left in no doubt as to his absolute sincerity.
I don’t really think about the effect my accident ( and its effects on me ) has on other people, unless they tell me.
But listening to Officer Payne’s words, delivered in his own style, made my eyes fill up.