Compliment

It all started with a compliment. How strange that a kind word wormed and twisted its way into the preladen trauma pathways of my mind. It was supposed to be kind, maybe even encouraging. I understand that, I do. But this is not what happened.

I sat at the table looking at the glass of water in front of me. I was alone at the table. My husband had pretty much left me and rumors were swirling. Most were true. I tried to be unseen, as much as anyone can with stage makeup and revealing costumes would allow. This was not unusual as dancers were usually early at dinner shows to turn in music, last minute touch ups and table saving for dinner shows. I however had no one to sit with. The sicker I got the fewer people came around I lost most of my friends. The person I…