Taxi Rides and Tulle

I sat in the taxi fidgeting with the tulle of my skirt. I would rather be at home. Instead, I was going to my sister’s engagement party. It was only last week she came to my apartment pleading with me to go. Our family was broken, she said, and hoped this would repair the cracks. Honestly, I thought it was just wishful thinking

Looking out the dingy cab window, I repeated the conversation with her in my head a thousand times. She was asking too much of me. They would never accept me, and the prospect of being trapped in a room with them for hours caused yet another wave of anxiety to wash over me.

I never meant to hurt them. I just couldn’t lie to myself any longer. It took years for me to understand it, and longer to say it out loud. Coming out to my friends and co-workers was the easy part. However, the day I decided to come out to my parents the only tears were from me as I stormed out of the house.

The taxi made a right and now I was only two blocks away from the banquet hall and my heart pounded against my chest.

Why did I agree to this?

I tried to focus on the sounds and lights of the city.

Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the smudged glass, I see myself as a blend of lights, and concrete. I feel as though I am only partly here. A façade of make-up and tulle, I am not really me anymore but an emissary for peace and progress.

The taxi stops at the curb of the restaurant and as my reflection fades it is replaced with my sister’s sweet face. Paying my fair, I step out into the world. Even still there will always be a part of me sitting in the cab fidgeting with the tulle of my skirt.

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