Isn't she a closet dom?
When we first met one of the things I most admired her for was her great love of children and animals. She said that to her they were "innocent," that is, uncomplicit in the world's meanness. I thought I understood that.
Lately it's not so clear. Isn't power the one true reality for her?
As a child people called her "bossy." As an adult we call it domineering. Wasn't the innocence she loved really nothing but helplessness in relation to herself?
Fall. Exhausted-looking woman slumps on a bed. Moonlight through open windows paints her silver.
"She never said why." Silver tears on a wet silver face.
Her beloved childhood friend has walked out of her life. No explanation. It was like a verdict from a secret court. She's had no chance to understand the charges, explain her motives, change the judge's mind.
By morning she's laughing again. But her anguish runs after her like a loyal dog.
Isn't this the root of her chronic failure in relationships with adults?
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