The Daughter of the Side Chick

I am the daughter of the side chick, and I have watched my mother cry for seven years. 

In the Spring He comes back.  Mommy is angry, but its only pretend anger.  Now she isn’t angry anymore.  They are together, everything is going to be different.  She starts showing me pretty dresses again for the wedding.  They used to be flower girl dresses, now they are junior bridesmaid dresses.

Summer comes, and mommy’s face beams as bright and hot as the June sun.  She radiates hope, fueled by his promises.  We go to the beach, he makes me promises too.  He tells me he’s going to treat my mommy right.  That he is going to be my daddy, that he will love me always.  I want to believe him, it would be nice to have a daddy. 

Summer changes to fall, and mommy is angry, he’s leaving again.  He calls, I answer the phone.  I told him he promised things would be different.  He tells me to “Stay out of grown folks business.”

At night I hear mommy crying in her room only this time I don’t stay in my room.  I peek inside and she’s sitting in the middle of the floor, ripped up bridal magazines all around her.  Broken like his promises, torn like her heart.  I wrap my arms around her, wishing my love was enough.  Wishing my tears could heal her heart.  “Don’t cry mommy, don’t cry.”

Winter comes, there is a boy that I like.  He seems nice, but will he hurt me?  I don’t want to cry like mommy.  I don’t want to believe in fake promises and hold onto lies.  But I did believe in his promises, I trusted his lies.  I believed I would have a daddy.  Do all men lie?

It’s New Years and mommy makes promises too.  She promises that things will get better.  That she is going to change.  That she is going to get closer to God and she is going to lose weight.  New Beginnings.  New gym membership.  New bible.

Valentine’s Day, its just me and mommy.  Mommy acts happy but I can still see she’s kind of sad.  She wants to be strong, I want her to be strong.  I need her to be strong.  She says Jesus is her Valentine.  I hope she has him for real this time.

Spring comes, and he’s back.  Mommy isn’t strong, she’s weak.  Her weakness makes me angry.  “Don’t look at me like that.  You don’t understand, you have never been in love.”  She says.  If love makes you stupid, I don’t want it.  “But mommy he’s going to make you cry again.”  I say.  “Stay out of grown folks business.”  She says.

He lies to her, he lies to me.  When he makes her cry, it makes me cry.  When she is sad, it makes me sad.  He breaks her heart, while she’s holding mine.  I can’t trust, because she trusts too much. 

I’m the daughter of a side chick, and I have listened to my mother cry for seven years.

The Side Chick

She had been the side chick for seven years, waiting, hoping, praying for the day that he would eventually leave his wife.  She already had the wedding colors picked out and had been looking online for wedding dresses.  Those plans have evolved over time, depending upon seasons and fashion trends.  Her friends and family had stopped telling her a long time ago that he was never going to marry her, they sadly watch this snail paced train wreck from afar.  Some people just have to learn the hard way.

Every year it’s the same thing.  During the summer everything is cool.  They make plans, may even go on a weekend trip.  She’s happy.  But then the fall comes, and his attitude changes with that of the color of the leaves.  What was once bright, lush, and full of life, fades to a dark, ugly, dead, brown.  Her heart makes the same sounds as those dead leaves as he steps on it and walks away.  After all the holidays are to be spent with his family, not her. 

The cold, slate colored winter sky reflects her mood.  At night she lays in her bed and cries.  Her daughter sees the toll it has taken on her mother and silently swears to God and herself that she will never play the fool.  The child hasn't even had her first high school crush yet, and she already has a chip on her shoulders when it comes to men.  It never crossed her mother’s mind that her daughter would be carrying part of her baggage.

Christmas comes and goes, followed by the New Year.  Her resolution is the same as it is every year before.  She is threw.  She is going to “do her”.  She is going to get closer to God, she is going to lose weight.  She is going to find a man that is going to appreciate the good, strong woman that she is.  She toasts to the New Year and new beginnings.

Valentine’s Day.  A day for lovers.  Well she doesn't need a man because Jesus is her valentine!  She takes her daughter out.  She doesn't need a man.  Her Facebook page is littered with #teamsingle, and religious memes. 

Spring comes, the promise of life, and love.  He returns.  At first she doesn't respond to him.  She’s angry.  He missed it all.  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine’s Day, her birthday.  He makes apologies, he makes promises.  She calls him a liar, he tells her that he’s serious about the divorce.  She curses at him, he whispers.  She pushes him, he pulls her.  She tries to fight him, he holds onto her.  She screams she hates him, while he whispers in her ear he loves her.  She gives up, and he gets in.

Its spring.  It’s not the promise of new life, but a recycle of the old one.  She’s happy again, she starts to make plans again.  Plans that everyone around her knows is a figment of her imagination.  She’s the dutiful side chick, and has been for seven years.