The 13th gates have nothing on this. If you really want to see fear in a grown person’s eyes who lives alone, let them open the banking app after paying rent or mortgage. Hold up. What if it they did that after buying groceries, filling up the car, and handling one little “unexpected” bill that somehow costs exactly what was left in the account. Nothing jumps out from behind a door. However, that available balance will still make you scream.
Listen, Halloween can keep ghosts, goblins, and creepy crawlers in night. At this big grown age, I know the real scares come with a due date. Maybe a warning light, a school message sent at 9:47 p.m., or a grocery receipt long enough to qualify as a novella.
September was one of those months that felt like it had sixty days instead of thirty. I don’t know if it was the season changing, responsibilities piling up sky-high, or just life out here doing what life does. It was something about this month that tested that last damn nerve I have. There were days when I felt productive. Days I felt pulled together, and completely on top of my game. However, then there were days when just surviving what absolutely had to get done was a full victory.
 |
| pexels |
As I get closer to four years post-divorce, people keep asking why I am still single. Baby, because I am good on the disappointment. I am not lonely enough to entertain confusion, lower my standards, or make room for somebody who brings nothing but disruption. I fought too damn hard for my peace to slide it across the table just because folks think a woman is supposed to have a man by now. I am not auditioning for companionship, and I am sure as hell not settling just to say I have somebody.
 |
| pexels |
