donna

American
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Childhoodbaby dolls, blankets and bruises, / toys, teddy bears and tears, / daddy's little girl, dancing and disapproval,
4
Feb 4, 2015
I miss you...There are moments.. / small / silent
43
Aug 19, 2011
SurvivalShe looks at this stranger across from her. Who is this man? She searches for some sense of familiarity. There is none. She is struck by the grayness and aging she sees in his face. She closes her eyes and tries to remember the man she once knew. The boy really. She was 17 and he was 21. He was her first true love and her first lover. She fell in love with him or maybe fell in love with love, or maybe just fell, through the door that lead out. Out of the war zone that most people call home. She is a survivor. A survivor of abuse, with all the battle scars to prove it, and a survivor of marriage. It’s rather ironic, she thinks of them both in the same way now. / She tries to remember the moment their love stopped, or that she just stopped loving. Like marking the milestones in life, there should be a marker there. Maybe it began in the first few months they were married. She was 7 months pregnant with their first child, and a bride of only 9 months. So trusting, so naive, so full of wonderful hopes and dreams. In her 7th month of pregnancy, her idealistic, childhood fantasy was destroyed. She found the man she had walked down the isle with, sworn to love, honor and cherish, in sickness and in health, till death do us part, with another woman. Oh, “they were just friends,” of course. “I only lied to spare your feelings,” of course. “I just needed someone to talk to,” of course. Sad isn’t it, 9 months into a marriage and she didn’t understand him, he couldn’t talk to her. She should have known then but she was young and she forgave him. It seemed to hard to do anything else. To stand up for herself meant to admit failure. Like somehow she had failed to meet his needs. So she tucked away the pain, burying it deeply, right next to the pain from her childhood. / But she survives. She knows the price you pay for survival. You learn to live with the pain. The physical pain and the mental pain, they are not so different. They are destroyers. Destroyers of the person she wanted to be. Stealing her hopes, her dreams, and finally her soul, one piece at a time.
95
Feb 4, 2015
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