12/22/21

More than what it was like to be the girl who was the second choice-

I often wonder what it's like to be the mother of the girl who was second choice

Surely she doesn't even know or she would have never supported the relationship in the first place

Or perhaps she does and in her yearning for her daughter to be "protected" by the boy she was talked into thinking was a man, she has convinced herself that her daughter was first choice

But I know and you know. 

That deep in the dry, echoing rims of your heart you are still holding on enough - to check - to wonder just what I may be doing tonight or maybe marveling in the fact that another person has broken my heart

Or perhaps, that makes you sad - if you took just a second to listen to the feedback of the echo of your heart

I am sure the child is loved for that is another life created apart from the world as you knew it

But more than what it might be like to be the girl who will always in some way, shape, or form be second choice, I often feel sadness for the mother of the girl because how could she know.

For me.

Despite all the heart break - and series of what I think of as unfortunate, tragic relationships - at the end of the day and often throughout the day, if it should come to mind for a breath of a second, I breathe a sigh of relief that although I may not yet be the first choice, I am certainly not the second

And that enough is what gives me the breath to open my eyes, pick my body up, and trust my intuition and the decisions I've made in my life to remain always with the destin to be first choice. Whether that be of a real man or that be first choice chosen by me, myself.