Years ago I noticed a wasp's nest forming under my porch over my front door. I wanted to challenge my fears by allowing the nest to exist. I watched the nest for months. My fear for the wasps transformed to a feeling of caretaker.
One warm summer night I had a friend come visit. She had a friend with her and we all went out to the bars down the street. The night was wrapping up so my friends left a little before me and I settled the tab. I walked about 3 blocks home. When I got home there were dead wasps all over my porch. The guy that my friend brought over decided to help me out by killing the wasps. My head and heart felt shock and pain and I unleashed on the guy that killed the wasps. He looked confused by my reaction explaining to me that where he comes from it's bad to have wasps buzzing around. I let the guy stay in my home that night even though I didn't want to but they had had too much to drink. The memory of the dead wasps is very difficult to think about. I wonder if that man remembers that night as much as I do.
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