We had a new couple over. And we never mentioned her name. Or her story. Or that aspect of our lives.
Not because she's not important. But because the last two couples we had over, we did mention her, and they never contacted us again. We run into them in town, but nothing ever happens again outside of polite chit chat.
So, last night we talked about high school, and college, and how we met and the big city. But we never mentioned how our hearts were broken and our world fell apart. Sitting here thinking about it, I guess I didn't feel the need to. Or maybe I was afraid to. I don't know if those are synonymous...or if the lack of need is somehow proportionate to the fear of rejection.
I'm lonely, with no friends in this new place. I've tried, and I seem to scare people away. I invite women and their children to events and playdates, and they don't show or respond. I wonder what's wrong with me, worried there's some great flaw that makes me the town pariah. So I scour for the flaws, seeking out what might catch people's eye.
We have pictures of stars, and me being pregnant with Lyra, and Simon...We have our candle and Lyra constellation with a Jizo set up in our home - easy to see if you visit us. Does this make us crazy? Does this make us unlikeable? Who flaunts their dead baby for others to question and squirm away from? Maybe we divulge our lives too quickly. Maybe we're the over sharers, who try too hard.
I don't have a large population to burn through, like in a big city. I don't have the luxury of saying, "to hell with them" when it doesn't work out. But I also can't pretend to be someone else. So, I hope that we'll have a chance to hang out with the couple from last night again, someday maybe sharing some more of our story with them.
Two years and five months out from her death, I'm scared to mention her now though.
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One year ago - Right Where I Am: One Year Five months