Starting Over

Today, at 5 o’clock in the morning, I got up and used the bathroom.  Shortly after, I noticed I was bleeding.  No, not a cut on my leg, or a scratch on my arm.  No, I was bleeding elsewhere, the start of a painful (period) of dropping to the floor and curling into a tight ball.

Can I just stress on how much I hate my period?  Or, should I lie to everybody, including myself, and say that this is a blissful time of shedding of old and creating of new.  That everything is green and bright.  No.  Everything is red, from the round splotchy red on your face to the oozing thick burgundy in your underwear.  Take that anyway you wish.  I choose to take it as a token by war.  You collect many as a woman.  All the past uterus widowing you to menopause.  Oh, when the men pause, because you’re no longer a youthful widow.  You are now too old.  But, at least after a couple years of hating everyone and everything, you can relish in your wisdom and forgive all those past widowers.

But for me, I’m still gathering tokens.  Boy, do they weigh a ton.  Maybe that’s the reason for the pain in my back.  Or.  Is .  It.  Just.  My.  Period?

Author: Sidney Medina

I dedicate these works to the steady flow of strangers, acquaintances, and teachers who constantly shaped me, vanishing before I thanked them. They pulled me from a hole I didn't know I was in. View all posts by Sidney Medina