Sometimes you think you have it all together.

But then the phone rings

And you hear the voice you never thought

(or hoped)

That you would ever hear again.

 

A blast from the past that

Blasts your confidence into

A million tiny pieces.

 

The voice that transports you back

From being a grown woman

To that disappointed little girl

Whose trust was broken more times

Than ought to be legal.

 

Knowing that as you sweep up the

Million tiny pieces,

That you might hear back from them tomorrow…

…or five years from now…

Or never again.

 

Consistency not being the strong suit

Makes it worse, actually.

It’s the ghost that pops up out of nowhere

That’s the scariest.

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