Thirteen and Brave

At thirteen she thought that

twenty-five, life would be together,

Sorted. At least to a degree.

Instead, at twenty-five she’s

the Other Woman.

Something I would wish for her?

No. And yet,

here she is in the arms of someone

who will never choose her.

At thirteen, she probably thought

She’d never settle for a man

Who wouldn’t choose her.

Too strong, too smart, too funny,

too beautiful to ever be

the Other Woman.

At twenty, someone once told her

That love is a choice

To walk side by side

Every day.

At twenty she was struck by its simplicity

and twenty-five, understanding that a

choice isn’t always so easy when fear comes to play.

It is a commitment

that takes bravery.

And she’s found herself

in the arms of a coward.

Bravery, at thirteen

is simple and stoic.

Twenty-five is realizing that

in order to brave

she has to be scared.

It’s really hard 

to be scared and also be brave

It is exhausting.

Life does not feel together

and it is not sorted.

Finding bravery, at twenty-five,

is the hardest part.

Admitting that life is not what she thought it would be

At thirteen.

To insist for more and probably

lose some along the way.

At thirteen, she would say,

as long as it’s not yourself you lose.

So why be afraid of losing someone

so cowardly as the man you’re in bed with.

At thirteen, she would tell her that

at twenty-five, she is worth more

and she always has been.

So why be in the arms of someone who

will never choose her?