We sit in a crowded bar,

Me listening with pride as my daughter plays the violin.

"What talent at such a young age!"

Basking in the pleasure of their company.

I beam with pride at my core group of friends.

We've shared ups and downs since high school and we are now in our 40s.

I am always happy when I am with them.

As I was that night,

Basking in the pleasure of their company.

I was so grateful to be accepted in the group at first I didn't ask for anything more.

Drama and jealousy eventually set in.

Though I swallowed it down as much as I could.

But, it was all in the past now and we were grown ups with more important things to worry about.

So I thought,

More important than crushes, academic performance etc.

So I thought,

It is time to use that envy though in the memoir I published.

It's all in the past,

Nothing to do with how I feel now.

They ask with interest, "When is your book going to be published?"

I promise to send a link.

"We can't wait to read it," they reply.

We go back to laughing, catching up, enjoying the evening.

Little did I know, all Hell was about to break loose,

Just a few short days later.

I would have, should have thought things over a little more,

If I knew how my words would change things.

I would have, should have, kept quiet about it all,

And just kept things concealed under a pen name.

But I trusted them.

But I was confident in their friendship and our unshakable bond.

I was wrong.

Little did I know,

Laughing at the table, listening to my daughter with pride, enjoying the company I was with,

That this was not only going to be our last get together.

But the last remenants of our friendship.

I glance out of the corner of my eye,

I see her approach the booth at the art fair.

I hurt her older daughter badly,

By writing cruel things

By ghosting her out of a long time friendship.

Her younger daughter has threatened me over this.

I don't know what she thinks of this all.

I glance at my daughter who is next to me, browsing the crafts.

I know what I would do if someone hurt her like that.

My heart is pounding.

I have to get out of there before she sees me.

I turn to my daughter and say in as casual a tone as I can muster,

"Let's get out of here."

I grab her hand and run to my car as fast as I can.

Playground

Slip

Fall

Hospital

Funeral

Therapy

Work

"Incident"

Streets

Bottles

Needles

Shelters

Kindness

Withdrawal

Redemption

She smiles, so shy, so sweet.

Silly.

Secretly, she’s so sad.

Selflessness shan’t spare such sorrowful soul.

Still.

She stands, shielding spirit so soft, soon shattered.

Silently, she says, “Smile.”