‘Work me’ wore this regularly, especially when traveling; it was my ‘fat’ dress when I hadn’t had enough time to rid myself of the travel baggage which would include extra pounds. In the past four years, I’ve not worn this dress once. That was over four years ago.
Four years ago, I considered wearing it for Sam’s visitation and again, the day of his funeral which was a warm day for May. I didn’t though because I didn’t want that horrific, heavy memory with that dress.
The picture is from wearing this dress today though; wearing a story I couldn’t say. If it was a story I could tell today… it would be the mess I can be, the unfixable me, the sadness that will never leave. If I said that, would I be loved? If I am that, could I still be loved? I want to be loved any way.