I Married Him Instead
Posted on February 13, 2014
I’ll never forget the first time that I saw you. It was way before you even noticed me. I was the new girl, all long limbs and with a mess of interlocks in my hair. That afternoon, I had finally built up the courage to join the track team after my mother had been hounding me for weeks about “putting myself out there” and “meeting new people”.
“You’re a great girl,” she’d tell me. “I’m sure that anyone that meets you will love you. You’re smart. You’re gorgeous. And you are way nicer than I was when I was in high school. Lord knows that you didn’t get your gentle nature from me. It’s that bite that is hiding underneath that I contributed. Glad you got it too. That’s the only way that I know no one will take advantage of you.”
And she was right. I was soft to the touch, but underneath I was bristly like a porcupine. One wrong move and you were in for a world of hurt. That was was what worried me. I wanted to make friends and finish out my high school years like I was living in some young adult novel, but I knew I had an uncanny ability to alienate. So I stormed the track with the intent to only show my face value.