As I perused the Fort Greene section of Brooklyn, vintage clothing and the flea market weren't the only things I discovered. Two women were talking about how their men had pulled the rug from underneath them and I needed a front row seat and good earshot range to hear the juice. "I mean literally I had no idea. I've lost 30 pounds in the last two weeks and have been crying 10 hours a day." I appeared to be extremely interested in the garment closest to the woman speaking and got a little closer. "The week before I found out he was with my friend we were talking about babies and buying a place together; I just don't know what happened, I thought we were fine and then
BAM! I'm a little better now, but I'm still crying, just not 10 hours a day more like six." With my mouth gaped open and my eyes bulged her friend began to speak, "You're only crying six hours a day now? I'm still crying over my man cheating on me, I've been crying for the last six months..." I had heard enough; I don't even want to begin to fathom the pain that these women are in and I felt like if I stayed longer to listen somehow their unexpected fate would jump off of them, and hop on me like a frog hopping from one lily pad to another; I wanted no parts.
After walking away, I started thinking about what could have possibly been going through friend #1's boyfriend's mind. How is it that a man can make you feel like you are the only one, like you both are moving forward in a life together filled with happiness only to find out that he has been sleeping with your friend? Her words rang in my ear after I had departed, "I am not surprised that she would betray me, but I never in a million years would have thought that he would do this to me." These women were bamboozled, hoodwinked and led astray and they were looking for comfort in each other, answers to what had gone wrong and immediate pain relief, something potent and long lasting. They were looking for a fix the way a heroine addict is on a mission for that next hit. Amazing how deep pain can run and transformative it can be. This woman went from planning a future with the love of her life to a depression so deep it had her open, telling her pain out in public, oblivious to the to the girl who was stopped in her tracks, listening and getting confirmation to never put anything past anyone...
As I perused the Fort Greene section of Brooklyn, vintage clothing and the flea market weren't the only things I discovered. Two women were talking about how their men had pulled the rug from underneath them and I needed a front row seat and good earshot range to hear the juice. "I mean literally I had no idea. I've lost 30 pounds in the last two weeks and have been crying 10 hours a day." I appeared to be extremely interested in the garment closest to the woman speaking and got a little closer. "The week before I found out he was with my friend we were talking about babies and buying a place together; I just don't know what happened, I thought we were fine and then BAM! I'm a little better now, but I'm still crying, just not 10 hours a day more like six." With my mouth gaped open and my eyes bulged her friend began to speak, "You're only crying six hours a day now? I'm still crying over my man cheating on me, I've been crying for the last six months..." I had heard enough; I don't even want to begin to fathom the pain that these women are in and I felt like if I stayed longer to listen somehow their unexpected fate would jump off of them, and hop on me like a frog hopping from one lily pad to another; I wanted no parts.
