She sat across from me in the corner booth against the window, sipping her Coke with lime.

We dance, and I wonder what He's doing. One step forward, two steps back. A nonstop marathon of progress and regression; doors opened then closed.

There are things I don't like to remember. They sneak upon me long past the expiration date I've given them; regrets and tragedies, mistakes and disappointments.

Tell me about yourself. Our answers are always automatic, and as women usually start like this…

I have a list. It's not written down anywhere, but it's certainly memorized. It's a list of things I think or speak over myself at any given moment.

I won't jump into a heated discussion, espousing my thoughts and opinions on the fly.

You, with your quiet strength that you see as too timid and weak. Your strength that endures under trials and difficulties, that keeps you from reacting in the flesh, keeps you from saying something you don’t mean.