Everything won’t fit. His heart, my needs, their love. If that were all we had, maybe we could stay. But there’s her friends, his appetite, my dreams. His commitment, her music, my words. Our truck is full. Even the road sags under the weight of our lives. We could stay, claiming corners of space, lunging for the chair closest to us before the music stops, but then one at a time we all eventually lose.
All we see now is work, sacrifice, accumulation. Our eyes have lost sight off the road with the rainbow we all secretly admit we saw and felt. There is a promised land but it’s not here where only two of us fit and the rest of us sit and wait our turn.
Victoria
Victoria Dillard Daily 