How long and how often should I be sad about all the things that have and have not happened in my life?
Remember when I got drunk off mango margaritas and yelled and cried about a woman's lot in life in front of small children who will never know how good they have it? Little girls accompanied by their fathers who will never understand and never be able to help them figure everything out. And continuing to say with tears running down my face that I am strong and I am not a fragile flower but a nepenthes cup plant that is capable of digesting small frogs and mice, very clearly scaring the bejesus out of the father who is not ready for his little girl to grow up and become one of four very drunk girls at a Mexican restaurant.
My whole life is about "Remember Whens."
Remember when my first kiss was a result of a sexual assault?
Remember when I found out I was pregnant?
Remember when I made the hardest choice that any woman will ever have to make in her life?
Remember, remember, remember.
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