![](https://sites.gsu.edu/dholmes-engl3140-spring22/files/2022/02/3168422355_c4b66222ae_k-750x429.jpg)
Valentine’s Day
by: Aubresha Tarrance
“It’s been three days…three days since we’ve last spoken. We walk past each other every day. We sleep together for God’s sake! Yet, we haven’t shared a word.”
These are the thoughts that’ve been running rampant in my head. I sneakily glance at you from over my book while sitting on the couch. You look focused, as always. Whatever it is you’re looking at, you’re either very, VERY engaged, or you feel me watching you and are trying to play it off.
“Which is it?” I wonder. I go back to pretending to read my book, and I hear you sigh, which causes me to glance at you again. You’re not paying any attention to me, which normally bothers me, but today I’m relieved. I’m relieved because I feel free. You can’t imagine how I’m feeling right now. You seem so…distant.
Three days ago, we were in love.
Three days ago, we were happy.
Three days ago, I told you I needed some time to get myself together.
Funny, this definitely wasn’t what I meant by that. And yet, we are still here, just…existing. I feel both sad and happy. I’m happy for myself, happy for making the decision to be a woman, the woman I’ve always dreamed of being. My dreams have always been wilder than life, inconvenient to some but mostly better than everyone else’s because naturally, I’m smarter; however, I lack discipline, so am I really smarter?
I pondered these thoughts until I felt you staring at me intensely. I wanted to speak, but I wasn’t going to be the first. It’s always me! This time I did nothing wrong! I thought you’d be happy for me. I thought you’d understand and support me. Yet, even with those being your words of choice in the moment…reality has shown me otherwise.
I wish I could take it back, but what would that fix for me? What would that change? Would it solidify my future? I’m so much more than a housekeeper. I’m so much more than a caretaker. Why can’t anyone else see that? It’s undoubtedly expected of me, and I have excelled in every way possible.
I just wanted an identity other than being THIS girl. Who is this girl, anyway? I know I created her, but mostly I just don’t recognize her.
What happened to all the ambition she had? Why isn’t she a multi-millionaire mogul with two degrees and a fleet of business associates in her rolodex? It has to be obvious, right? Most problems usually are. I went from being successful and having opportunities knocking every minute to nothing.
Silence.
“Who am I?” These words played in my head as I looked at you and waited for you to speak, but instead, you just put your head down. You blocked me out. And if you could just block me out, why the hell am I still sitting here replaying thoughts and feeling regretful?!
I did nothing wrong this time. Nothing. I’m not the issue here. I closed my book, stood up, grabbed my keys, and walked out the door.
I’ve got shit to do.