The Hardest Part Of Being A Woman
Sometimes the worst things seem tiny. But they’re not.
I want to leave, she says. But I can’t afford it. Can’t pay everything on what I earn. I’m watching her eyes fill, mouth tremble, don’t know what to say. Watching her face, time is an elephant laying heavy on my chest.
I’m remembering beds so close I could reach out, poke hers with my foot, whisper you awake? Secrets shared in the dark of night until mama yells you girls stop your talking, go to sleep already. Long before marriage, husbands, jobs, kids, too much to do, never enough time.
I’m remembering the boyfriend that hit her. Hurt her. Whispered secrets in the dark. Don’t tell Dad. It’s okay. She left him. Wondering what was wrong with me because I didn’t see. Didn’t guess. Liked him. Thought I should have known, nevermind I was a teenybopper maybe thirteen.
I’m remembering how her eyes sparkled when they met. When she showed me the ring. All the tiny buttons down the back of her wedding gown. She was so beautiful. Radiant. The way her eyes shone. Me too, if I dare go there. Dark curls on white lace. Arms full of flowers, eyes full of stars.
But that was then, this is now. Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. I was the first sister to divorce. Wouldn’t wish it on…
