I thought

I thought

I thought that if I wore Revlon Red lipstick, you could see what I was saying. Instead, my mother told me I looked like a hooker and my aunt passed me a tissue.

I thought that if I studied hard enough and if my grades were good enough I would finally be enough for you. Turns out, I wasn't the teacher's pet.

I thought that if I prayed hard enough, things would get better. Instead, things got harder.

I thought that if I showed you my letter of acceptance from Princeton Seminary or Yale Law School, you would be proud of me. You put your drink on it - and I was pissed because you never used a coaster before.

I thought that if I gave you enough to compensate for what the world took away that you would love me and not leave me. Like a bank robber, you took what I had and left me with my hands tied behind my back.

I thought that you were sincere when you told me that you would make me the envy of every woman in the room just by loving me. You didn't tell me it was because they knew that I was the catch of the day.

I thought that I would never engage in idolatry like those foolish Israelites who were loved so fiercely by God. Then I found myself rushing through prayer to have time to talk to you.

I thought that showing you my scars would entice you to kiss and make them better. You traced them with a sharpie and used them for target practice.

I thought we would grow old together and never get tired. We just got tired of each other.

I thought...I thought...I thought...wrong.