One thought grief and turmoil were necessary to be a writer.
One had so much grief and turmoil she never became a writer.
One never laughed.
One only laughed at inappropriate times.
One heard voices.
One started making me hear voices.
One could not escape her father’s shadow.
One thought all men except her father were closet gays.
One was a garment worker who should have been a professor.
One was a professor who should have been a garment worker.
One wanted a family.
One wanted a career.
One wanted a family and a career but all she got was a nervous breakdown.
One rehearsed the right things to say to end our relationship.
One said the wrong things so I ended our relationship.
One was quick to temper.
One held it inside.
One drank too much.
One watched television too much.
One only drank when she watched television.
One was a physical fitness addict.
One was a cocaine addict.
One wanted to break me like a cowboy tames a wild horse
and then move on.
One broke me like a cowboy tames a wild horse
and then moved on.
One said she was part Indian to be fashionable.
One believed she was Pocahontas in another life.
One was an athlete.
One was a victim of athletes.
One was a grammarian.
One said, "Fill ‘er up."
One avoided eye contact during sex.
One avoided sex.
One had a brother who slowly died of AIDS.
One never told her brother she had AIDS.
One used the word transference whenever we argued.
One used transference whenever we argued.
One smiled all the time.
One never left the house.
One I never loved, although I wanted to.
One never loved me, although she wanted to.
One placed all her faith in Tarot cards until she woke up one
morning and could not remember her name.
One I still think about.