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You Were Too Late

 It's Wednesday, and you told me you'd make it.   You've let me down before, but I held on to hope--even if it was only a little bit.

I went through my day excited about this performance:

  It was my favorite, 42nd Street. In this one, we would sing and dance!   Mommy and I get ready to go to the school, and you're still not home. "He might not make it," says Mommy. "Get your coat on so we can go."  As I stood on stage, sang and danced my heart out with my class, My insides were in knots with hurt and anger, because I knew this time I wasn't going to give you a pass.

Usually, all you would have to do is tell me you're sorry and give me some money, But this time I was too hurt, too embarrassed, and just plain sad to even be phony. The performance was over.  While Mommy was driving, I remember that it was dark and cold.

We saw you walking up to the school, but it was over.  Mommy said something under her breath that made me wish I was old.

She was as disappointed, and as hurt as me. Her pain was so thick, I was able to feel her energy.

 I don't remember you coming home that night. I'm glad, because I'm sure there was a fight.  I cried till I closed my eyes and envisioned another life, but when I awoke I realized this was it ... and all I                                                                               Wanted to do was die.

From My Book,

”The Love You Gave:

The Attention I Craved”

Nahdiyah Dennison

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