Confession of Ignorance

I remember Bruce’s bedroom — a mass of boys, and me,
trying to be one of them, tough & smart. Then years later,
married to one of them, an apartment couch, and mostly
the same group of boys, now young men. Back then, I was straighter
than any of them, sitting stiffly by my new “husband”,
avoiding the sights that accompanied the scent of smoke,
delirium of lavender microdot. Accustomed
or not, I knew enough to flinch; expected the next poke,
the deep bruises, the fists. My fear, his calm. His sense of pride
in leaving pain with no marks, so no one would believe me.
He didn’t just hit me. He’d hit them, too, his friends. So, why’d
they stay? I couldn’t understand. Bruce’s mother told me,
“To keep you safe. They worried. Each one of those boys loved you.”
I had no idea. I didn’t know. I never knew.

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3 responses to “Confession of Ignorance

  1. A little sad, but a story of great love none the less.

  2. Pingback: Confession Series, 2012 #NaPoWriMo #30in30 | Rosefire Rising

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