Promises, Promises
It’s Saturday. This morning, while it was still dark outside, I was cleaning the blood from our sheets and it took forever. The slender bars of hospitality soap and cold water weren’t doing the job. I poured out all the peroxide we had on the stains. I wash them again until my hands are numb from cold and the skin cracks from dryness. For all my effort yellowish-brown ghosts haunt the smooth white cotton. I give up. I leave the sheets with the hotel laundry service along with our dry cleaning. I was angry when Guy asked that I set out clothes last night. I said nothing and did as he asked.
Put your face on girl… Get dressed in your best. They’re already talking about you. Beat those puffy eyes away. Next time you look in the mirror straighten that back. No slouching. You’re not home yet. One more time and don’t be scared to look at him. That’s your responsibility to be what you’re not. Don’t let your face drop again.
Jennifer walks away still facing the mirror and she’s satisfied. I’m satisfied.
We know what to do. No more weakness. No more mistakes. Can’t let emotions run wild. Be what they want and get your way. You’ve done it before. Do it again. We’ve been through worse. We have haven’t we.
“…We’ve been through worse.” Guy slides his arms around my waist. He’s been talking to me for a while but…
