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Memories. Smokey filled room with bustling chatter, Sitting with my Honey Jack Daniels, I strike up another cigarette on my pillowlips as the piano across the room starts playing “When a Man Loves a Woman.”  My heart strings are pulled as I sit there and think, when is it my turn?  I was beautiful once wasn’t I?  The bustle gets louder as the couples take to the dance floor while I wallow in self pity.  Another Wednesday night.

I close my eyes and think to myself, why do I care? He doesn’t love me. Not because he never will but because he is careful. I want to walk away. I am too weak. All those love songs in my head. Why do I believe in love? I am the princess at the top of the tower thinking he will come. 35 years. Wow. You never were in love and loved back in all that time. Maybe once when you were 19. So never say never. And when you walked away from him 15 years ago, he looked back and said “no man will ever love you again.” You know what no one ever has since then. Did he really curse me? Put a spell on me that all my future loves will all be unrequited? Wow, he really did. I was never loved after that.

And here I am again. In the same place. Same place that I always am. On the short end of the stick. Men have used me, thrown me away like garbage. Used me as their sperm receptacle, their mistress, their dog. Yet time and time again, I loved them. Unrequited. Shameful. Hopeless.

Smoke fills the room. Honey Jack Daniels on my pillowlips. Big brown eyes lift up from my glass, as I peel myself out of the chair. Time to go home. Out the door into the night I walk. Walk home to write this piece and share it with you tonight.

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