She was one of the girls from the model school in the university town. There were fewer than twenty of them, moving lockstep through twelve grades together. Most of them lived a protected existence. Middle class. Some upper-middle class. Doting parents. Somehow they thought they were special. It wasn’t their fault. It was instilled in them. She knows there is nothing special about her, although there was about many of the rest. They loved each other as sisters. She looks back at that time, at those girls, and wonders how any of them survived in the big, wide, still scary world.
She wonders if she has survived these many years later. She knows her ability to find and have a decent romantic relationship has not survived. That has been gone for a long time if it ever existed at all. It might have been killed one night when she was seventeen. She won’t think about that. Maybe it was killed when they divorced the first time. Perhaps when a love relationship during the gap between the two marriages hadn’t worked out?
What she knows for sure is that this time, this failure of her second marriage to him has done her in. It wasn’t that the marriage failed. It was the way it failed that has hurt her so much. Eventually, she’ll go through the motions of life again. She can’t even do that now. But one day she will. Even as she hopes there will be another relationship, she knows there won’t be. She will never open herself up to that kind of pain again. She can barely sustain her friendships right now. Even those seem to be destined to cause pain. She isn’t able to show her friends how much they mean to her anymore.
Maybe this is the way it was supposed to be all along.
There is a silence in her heart.
This post is part of Linda G. Hill’s #JusJoJan 2018 Challenge.