people are so desperate to believe in something they believe anything.
'i love you,' he whispers in her ear lobe over the cocktails she has bought. she's already lent him two grand, what's a few drinks. i love you, is what she wants to hear, so like a key unlocking a door the petals in her bitter heart unfold and a secret timeline is revealed. it's the one where he takes her and her child, commits to them exclusively and saves her from the sadness she feels. the sadness because she is not beautiful, nor smart, nor flush with cash, after all she has been struggling with social services for years, lives with her parents, but she wants his love so bad she has already given him everything she has, even her flesh on that first night they met.
when he will not return her calls she starts that inevitable slide, further self loathing, further hurt, further sadness. her father yells at her, 'how could you give your savings to a stranger?'
her daughter looks at her wondering why they are unable to afford the cinema.
'why,' she cries, 'why?'
when i see her she is hostile, angry at me, the innocent, projecting and acting like a child. i buy her coffee as her anger slips from her tongue, her face contorted and eyes seeping rage. it deflects from me, and i watch her back cloud swallow her up.
'i'll see you tomorrow,' she says and then when tomorrow comes she has gone.
why? the answer is so obvious. i see it, we see it. why can't she?