I think between times i was just waiting for life to happen. Just waiting to grow up. Waiting to become a woman. Waiting to become sexy, to grow 
into that thing that would draw men to me. For so long before that i would just slide along the walls—or that’s what it seemed like in high school—wanting to melt into them so no one would notice me—until that moment when they did.
Now i’m almost forty and it seems that time that “they”’d notice me is behind me (and they did notice me) but somehow things seem a blank.
I waited. And now i look back.
And is that good?
into that thing that would draw men to me. For so long before that i would just slide along the walls—or that’s what it seemed like in high school—wanting to melt into them so no one would notice me—until that moment when they did.Now i’m almost forty and it seems that time that “they”’d notice me is behind me (and they did notice me) but somehow things seem a blank.
I waited. And now i look back.
And is that good?
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