Within minutes I thought these men could be women. I never heard men talk about the same things as women do.
Little did I know negotiation, whether overt or complicit, would include paternity and likely murder.
She wanted today to be both an ending and a beginning.
Had you slept beside me, I’m absolutely positive you would have heard me laughing in my sleep.
Milestones are ours to make, define, and delineate which are meaningful and meaningless. Mystery riddles most milestones, many of which we never unearth.
It took me a while to claim this room, this space. And I wonder why it took so long? Because time heals all wounds. That’s the mystery of love.
Why is that? Because we are afraid to write it. Afraid to be vulnerable again, and to possibly be open to rejection, again. It’s a worn out tawdry paperback, even Goodwill won’t accept.
I’m angry at myself because when I think of how people view me, this twice-divorced woman, I imagine they think I am an idiot but I’m not.