When I spoke of my things you always gave me that look like my life was trivial and something a little bit cute.
You demonstrated this when you said small words in reaction–
like, “Hmm, yeah.”
And, “I’d like to just live like that.”
As if my life is a fantasy available for you to escape inside of.
I suppose that’s what we do, isn’t it? Voyeur into other people’s lives and imagine living inside a different world. But it’s something else when your life is made smaller and less-than. Like my simple working-class woman life of doing nice things for poor people….