Every woman in my life has been lied to, gaslit, cheated, abused, to varying degrees. Some fight while others allow this horror to devour them whole, flesh-and-bone. You pick up the pieces and go to work, smiling as you do so. “Can I get you anything else?” us girls grin in unison.

​

I feel a real, deep-seated guilt for neglecting these friendships, babe. A bowling ball in my stomach, a desert in my mouth. These women - you know who you are, angels - have always, always been there, in touching distance, but I’ve felt so discouraged, so controlled, that I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I’m sorry for that.