There were three different periods when all of them hated me at once. June slammed doors at 13. Claire refused to look at me for a month at 15. And Ava told me at 17 that I didn’t understand anything.
She was right. I didn’t. But I stayed.
I just made grilled cheese.
***
I gave things up, too.
A cousin’s wedding in Denver because Claire came down with the flu.
A fishing trip I’d promised myself for 10 years.
The possibility of having a family of my own.
And Diana, the woman I loved. Diana stayed patient for a long time. Longer than she probably should have.
I missed things, too.
“I’m not asking you to choose,” she told me one evening at the front door. “I’m asking if there’s room.”
“There isn’t,” I said. “Not the kind you deserve.”
She nodded like she’d already understood the answer. She left a sweater behind. I never gave it back.
