I had a dream I was picking out dresses, finding shoes to match and all that. I eventually picked a short, white dress. Its sweetheart neckline and its cinched waist seemed to be just enough for wherever I was going. I didn't feel any anticipation or excitement but instead I felt like I was getting ready for a ritual, something I was either accustomed to or indifferent about. I looked at the dress for a moment imagining it hugging my curves. What was so special about today that I would be wearing a dress? Was I going to a recital? Was I going to dinner? Was I meeting someone and if so, who?
Life can be like our dreams or our dreams can be like our lives. There are too many times that we are picking out our finest clothes with absolutely nowhere to go or for someone we really don't want to go with. Even in my dream, I looked disinterested. Am I wasting time trying to please my habits instead of myself? Am I doing what I've always done instead of doing what I want to do? In the fear of burning bridges, am I afraid to swim in the sea underneath it?
I find myself lost in my own dreams wondering if reality has gotten so tired of trying to get through to me during the day that it holds class at night in my head. There I am, tossing and turning at the idea of being inadequate, disappointed and most of all, invisible.
He told me, "You're not worth it" and for exactly sixty seconds I believed him. I almost digested the idea that a girl from the South Bronx who became a mother at 18, wasn't worth it, wasn't worth anything. And then I politely snapped back into reality.
If he could not understand my worth, then he could never afford me and with that, the bargaining of our love had ceased.
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