Sometimes you think you have it all together.
But then the phone rings
And you hear the voice you never thought
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.